An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication
www.ellorascave.com
Skin ISBN 9781419914393 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Skin Copyright © 2008 Bernadette Gardner Edited by Briana St. James. Photography and cover art by Les Byerley. Electronic book Publication January 2008 With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502. Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/) This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.
SKIN
Bernadette Gardner
Dedication For T. as always, the inspiration for all my heroes.
Acknowledgements I’d like to thank Lisa, my wonderful CP for all her help and encouragement.
Trademarks Acknowledgement The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction: Dockers: Levi Strauss & Co. Google: Google, Inc. Pilates: Joseph Hubertus Pilates
Skin
Chapter One “I can’t believe I’m doing this.” Makena Brady took a long swallow of ice-cold mineral water to steady her nerves. She wished it were something stronger, but the days when she relied on alcohol to buck up her courage had come to an end a while ago. She didn’t need fortification really, just a better handle on why she’d come here today. She still had time to back out and go home. There were certainly plenty of cabs on hand during Friday evening rush hour in the city. All she had to do was step up to the curb, hail one and go home to a frozen dinner and a rented movie like a good girl. Her feet wouldn’t move, though. No one was making her do this, except maybe the tenacious voice in her head that dared her to break out of her shell and finally indulge in the fantasy she’d carried around since high school. She was certainly entitled to it after all this time. At twenty-nine, the decision was hers entirely. Her parents would never know and with Reed out of her life for good, she no longer had to worry about his disapproval of her personal choices. So what was holding her back? She stood on the corner of 14th Street while the rushhour pedestrian traffic surged around her. The door of SkIntense Body Art was a mere three steps away. She needed to walk in, look around, make a decision and go for it. Her first tattoo would be something small and tasteful, on the back of her shoulder where her conservative business suits would hide it while she was at work. Or maybe she’d go for something on the small of her back that would only show if she wore that new string bikini she’d just picked up for the summer season or her sexy low-rise jeans.
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Maybe she should forget the whole thing and be realistic. Did she really need a picture permanently inked onto her skin? What if she didn’t like it when it was finished? What if it hurt too much and she chickened out in the middle of it? What if it felt good—and she liked it so much she came back for more? Her heart began to pound in earnest now. This was ridiculous. She had to make her decision and get moving. She chugged the last two swallows of mineral water and dumped the plastic bottle in the trash can. Then, with a final, deep breath, she strolled through the door of the shop, her head high and her emotions still in chaos. She could always say she was just looking and walk out again unscathed, right?
***** Darq Stone had been watching the woman on the corner for fifteen minutes, hoping she’d decide to come in, willing her to make the choice she obviously wanted to make. When she tossed her bottle of designer water in the trash and headed for the door, a languid weight settled in his gut. She was exquisite. A perfect canvas, what he could see of her body, anyway. Above the crisp collar of her butter yellow blouse and gray pinstriped suit jacket, her long, graceful neck bore no jewelry. She had a strong chin and fine cheekbones. Her golden hair was swept up in a professional style that begged to be ravaged and set free. He imagined those long, burnished curls would reach down to her shoulders if released from the severe confines of her French twist. Her skin was light and smooth like fine alabaster, but not so pale as ivory. That hint of color told him she wasn’t one of the typical urbanites who lived on vitamins and laxatives. She had curves beneath her fitted jacket and knee-length skirt—hips that flared just enough to hold on to and a derriere with a little bit of substance. He liked the idea that she might want some art on her ass, or an upper thigh, or all across her back… He tried to keep his fantasies in check as she strolled through the door and looked around.
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When she finally approached the counter, her hazel eyes held a mischievous sparkle that battled with the self-doubt in her voice. “Hi…I’d like to get a tattoo. Are you the…artist?” Darq nodded. “I am.” He studied her for another indulgent minute, wondering if she’d just give up the ghost and bolt back into the river of commuters surging by outside. “Welcome to SkIntense.” “Thanks. Umm…can I see some of the smaller designs?” “You can see whatever you like. Come with me.” Darq stepped back and gestured to the inner portion of the shop where one huge wall held samples of his best designs. All styles and sizes filled the display, from the smallest butterflies and dainty filigreed hearts to full body murals that took months to complete. He hoped she’d go for something bold and colorful and not the usual little anklet or monochromatic Celtic knot somewhere inconspicuous, as though it were a dirty little secret to be hidden from the world. She shivered a little when she passed through the stream of cool air coming from the overhead vent. Watching goose bumps rise on the flesh at the back of her neck gave Darq a surge of desire he hadn’t felt in a long time. He’d always made it a point not to date customers, but good Lord. This uptight, silk-suited goddess already had his balls in a twist. Could he stand it if she shrugged out of that sleek jacket she wore and started unbuttoning her blouse? Her French-manicured fingertips fluttered over a design on the wall—the Chinese symbol for freedom. Ironic choice when she was obviously sewn up tight as a drum. Maybe some art would help her loosen up and open her to new possibilities—open her to him… “I like this one. How much?” “Miss…?” “Makena. Makena Brady.”
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Beautiful name—different, exotic. “Makena. My name is Darq Stone, by the way. I’m part owner of SkIntense.” She turned a wide, curious gaze on him. Her coral-colored lips parted in question. “Your name is Dark?” “With a Q. My parents were eccentric to say the least.” He smiled at the selfconscious blush that crept over her high cheekbones. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—” “No offense. Everyone questions it. I’m used to the curiosity. Now back to you. I would hate to see you choose a design based only on the price. Why don’t you sit down and we’ll talk about what you really need.” Her eyes narrowed and those glorious lips pursed. She obviously thought he was going to schmooze her into paying a lot for something she really didn’t want. With that in mind, he motioned her to the reclining chair where he did most of his front work. “I don’t really need a tattoo—it’s just something I’ve always thought about doing and I wanted to get some ideas.” “You need to get something you’ll be happy with. I do a lot of cover work—fixing and changing images people purchased on the spur of the moment without considering the long-term implications. It pains me to see someone having an old lover’s name covered up or who’s had extensive laser work to remove an image entirely. You have beautiful skin, and I would hate for you to one day want to remove the work I do for you.” She nodded, still uncertain but clearly warming to his honesty. She let out a slow breath and the sound of her quiet exhalation made his balls tighten. She moved past him, stirring a faint essence of sultry perfume. He almost leaned in for a deeper breath of her before she turned again to face him. “I know I’d like something small to start with. I don’t want any names or hearts and flowers.” “No. You need to make a statement with your choice. Something that will remind you, whenever you see it, of why you came here today.” 8
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She tilted her head. “I just don’t want my boss to see it. I work for a very conservative company.” “If you were truly worried about someone else’s opinion, you wouldn’t be here. You want something that speaks to you and you alone.” She smiled and Darq’s heart responded with a quickened beat. “How can you tell all that just by looking at me?” “It’s what I do, Makena. Now sit down, relax. Why don’t you take your jacket off and we’ll discuss where you want the image?” She hesitated. Would she obey him? She shrugged her purse strap off her shoulder and set the little black bag down next to his chair. Darq held his breath when her fingers slid into the front of her suit jacket and flicked open the two silver buttons. If he didn’t control himself, he’d probably start panting. He gave a moment’s thought to the Open sign still hanging on the front door. This would be a private consultation from this point forward. Though he’d probably catch hell from his partner for closing the shop even temporarily this late on a Friday evening, it would be worth the drama to have some uninterrupted time with her. This one was special. She needed personal attention he wouldn’t be able to give with a shop full of customers asking questions and comparing their previous tats. Makena Brady slithered out of her jacket and folded it carefully over her arm. He noticed the tight grip she had on the gray fabric. She held it like a shield, telegraphing her reluctance to completely let herself go. How long would it take him to cure her of her inhibitions? he wondered. More than the space of an hour’s discussion no doubt, but he’d bet it would be worth the effort. While she focused her attention on the flash that decorated the walls, he indulged in another long look at her. The faint outline of a lacy bra was visible through the thin fabric of her blouse. Darq fixed his gaze on it and imagined the sensual joy of pushing that skinny strap down off her shoulder to examine the skin beneath. He’d never felt such a strong desire to unwrap a woman, layer by layer, before. 9
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Despite her visible apprehension, she folded her long legs and sat in the recliner. Darq pulled up one of his three-legged work stools and sat facing her. “Now, Miss Brady, are you ready to answer a few intimate questions?”
Makena’s whole body tingled at his question. Darq Stone. Even his name had an effect on her. His deep voice was cultured, his words measured and precise. His eyes held her while she shifted self-consciously in the plush reclining chair. Beneath her blouse, her nipples peaked under his subtle scrutiny and she moved her folded jacket up a little higher to deter his errant appraisal. For a second she tried to imagine the thrill of baring any part of her body to this man. Her breath caught and she found herself squeezing her thighs together against an ache she hadn’t felt in a while. Maybe this was a bad idea. It might be better to go somewhere else where she didn’t find the tattoo artist undeniably sexy and intriguing. His black hair reached his shoulders but was neatly cut and wavy. He wore one gold stud in his left ear—she tried to remember if that meant he was gay. Certainly not by the way he looked at her with those beguiling amber eyes. Flattery battled with sudden apprehension. What would she do if he came on to her? Would she be disappointed if he didn’t, now that she had the image in her head of him slowly unbuttoning her blouse and sliding his graceful, slender fingers under the shoulder straps of her bra? She swallowed hard, wishing she hadn’t finished all the water before coming inside. “What kind of questions?” “Normally, I’d ask a customer if they’ve ever had any work done before. Most of my clients have visible tattoos so the question isn’t always necessary, but in your case, I might ask.” “I don’t…I haven’t.” “I know.” He smiled and the hint of true amusement in his eyes made her blush. Was she that transparent? 10
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“Obviously I wouldn’t be so nervous if I’d done this before.” “You don’t need to be nervous. You’re completely in control here. I’m not going to talk you into anything you’re not one hundred percent comfortable with. In fact, I predict you’ll leave here today without any permanent work being done at all.” “Why is that?” “You don’t really know what you want. That’s fine. I’d prefer to see you come in every day for a month and finally make the perfect choice than pick something just to get it over with so you can go home and feel vindicated as though you’ve passed some kind of internal test.” Makena’s spine went stiff. He didn’t look anything like Dr. Phil, but he sure as hell sounded like a therapist. “You seem very sure of my intentions, Mr. Stone.” “Darq. And I am. I can see the uncertainty in your eyes. So I’m going to ask you, why do you want a tattoo? Is it to assert your independence?” “No.” Yes. “From whom?” Makena rolled her eyes. “I said no.” “Indulge me. Pretend you said yes.” “Why would I…?” He raised jet-black brows. She wasn’t going to get off easy. There was obviously no bluffing Darq Stone. She held his gaze for a defiant moment then let out her breath, releasing just a little of her pent-up tension with it. “It’s something I’ve always wanted to do, since I was about sixteen. Of course my parents wouldn’t hear of it. I figured I’d wait until I was eighteen when I wouldn’t need their permission, and then I went to college and I really never had any extra money. Every time I thought about it, something would come up to eat up my savings, you know? My car would break down. My roommate would be short on the rent and I’d have to spot her a loan. After a while I just forgot about it.”
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“Then what happened? I can tell there’s more to the story.” “I was dating someone…I told him I wanted to get a tattoo for my twenty-fifth birthday and he freaked out. He bent over backward convincing me I shouldn’t do it and I didn’t want to make waves in the relationship, so I forgot about it again.” Why was she telling him this? Did this man really need the whole, boring truth about her love life? “And now he’s gone?” Did his tone seem hopeful? “Long gone.” That came out easily. Relief coursed through her again. Telling Reed to take a hike had been the most liberating moment of her life, but Makena had the sudden realization it would pale in comparison to the moment she stripped off another article of clothing and let Darq Stone put his hands on her. A nervous laugh escaped her. “Don’t be embarrassed.” “I’m not.” “You’re nervous.” “Of course.” “You don’t need to take any of your clothes off, you know.” Damn, why did that disappoint her so much? Secretly she wished he’d command her to strip down to nothing so he could look over her entire body. She pictured him running his fingers over her thighs and under the heavy curves of her breasts, looking for the perfect spot to brand his mark…good Lord. She resisted the urge to fan herself. The air-conditioning didn’t seem to reach this far back in the shop. Makena cleared her throat and sat up straight in the too-comfortable chair. “Since you seem to have already decided I’m not getting a tattoo today—” She made an abortive move to get up, but he placed a hand on her knee. The touch wasn’t intimate, really—nothing slap-worthy—yet the weight of his hand on her bare skin arced to her already pulsing clit. What if he slid that hand up her thigh and under her skirt? What if
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he ran one searching finger into the elastic of her panties and probed the wet heat building within her pussy? She leaned back in the chair, forcing herself not to shiver. The temperature hadn’t changed at all, yet cool tingles raced up her spine and under her blouse, tightening her aching nipples even further. “What’s your next question, Mr. Stone?”
Darq licked his lips and tried to compose his tumultuous thoughts into a coherent question. What did he want to ask her? Would she strip for him? Would she spread her thighs and let him fuck her? Lord. Those were her thoughts. Makena Brady was hot and needy. He could have her for the asking. Her body had ripened under his gaze alone. What would happen if he did what she wanted him to and thrust his hand under her skirt? I can read your mind. He wanted to say it aloud, to warn her that every sensuous image she’d played out in her head since she sat down was as clear to him as the symbols etched in black ink hanging on the wall behind her. Would she run if she knew he could read her so well? Better than anyone else he’d ever met. Most people’s minds were so cluttered with extraneous thoughts he barely got impressions of the truth behind their words. In contrast, Makena was a completely open book. Her only thoughts right now were of him and what he might ask her to do. “We’ve established that you’re looking for something that will commemorate your independence from the rules imposed on you by others. That’s good. The symbol you looked at before is the symbol for freedom, and it’s a perfect place to start, but I rarely copy work from the samples on the wall. I prefer everything I do to be customized. No two images I draw will ever be exactly alike.” “I see. So how would I customize that image?” “You could add a second symbol or some other picture, something that identifies you uniquely. You could embellish with colors, a background motif…anything. For the best results, I’d advise you to do some research. I can recommend some Internet sites 13
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and some books, or you could even come in another time and talk to some of my customers. Any one of them would be more than happy to share their experiences with you to help you make the best choice possible.” She nodded but disappointment clouded her eyes, making them darken to brown. “I see. Thank you for being so honest with me, Darq. I was expecting a high-pressure pitch.” “Of course. You’re obviously used to others imposing their will on you.” Now her eyes flashed. He’d touched a nerve and though he had no desire to offend her, he reveled in the sudden flare of anger. He wanted to see the range of her emotions and feel them emanating from her core. She thought he was preparing to excuse her, to cut their encounter short, and that bothered her. She didn’t want to leave any more than he wanted her to. “I assure you, Mr. Stone—” “Tell me what you want, Makena. Anything that you want. Be forceful and sure of yourself.” Her eyes went round and her lips parted. A flash of indignation straightened her spine, then she smiled. Darq’s heart thundered. He had her. “I want you to help me choose where to put the tattoo. Can you give me some…advice?” His mouth went bone dry. Why was he doing this? He found this woman undeniably attractive. He should just close the shop and ask her to have dinner with him. Yet, a date would be anticlimactic, even if it ended with the two of them entwined in bed. Sex with Makena Brady had to be more inventive than that. This wasn’t a woman he’d wine and dine and take home to allow her to slip into the bathroom and put on a sexy negligee. He didn’t want to slide into a well-made bed and burrow under a satin gown. He didn’t want to take her in the dark. With Makena it would have to be a little
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raw—hotter and harder than just the usual kissing and touching and tasting. It had to be forbidden, different, something neither of them had ever done before. And it had to start now.
Makena trembled when Darq Stone raked his eyes over her body. His gaze traveled from her mouth all the way down to her primly crossed ankles in a sensual sweep that left her weak. He would do it. He would ask her to take her clothes off and he’d touch her and look at her and she’d love every minute of it. He stood so quickly she almost jumped out of the chair. “I don’t normally do this, but in your case…” She watched his Adam’s apple bob before he turned his back on her. With a startling swish, he pulled a dark curtain around the chair, forming a secluded alcove that was separate from the rest of the brightly lit shop. When he turned to face her again his eyes seemed darker, feral and piercing. “This seat is reserved for private work, for the modesty of my customers. No one can see you from outside the shop. If you’d like to show me the areas you have in mind, feel free.” Her eyes tracked over his shoulder. How private could this be after all? Of course, she thought nothing of removing her clothes in a dressing room surrounded by mirrors and hidden from other customers by nothing more than flimsy shower curtains or half doors. Other female customers, anyway. “I’ll lock the door out front, if that’s all right with you. Our busy time isn’t until later. Since there’s no one else here, I can close for a little while.” “Okay.” She realized she didn’t want to get undressed alone. That wouldn’t be any fun at all, and already Makena had decided this adventure was going to be fun. If nothing else, she was going to enjoy having Darq Stone look at her and touch her and
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whatever else she wanted him to do. The look in his eyes told her he was ready, willing and able to give her far more personal service than a private consultation about body art. What had come over her? She didn’t care. She’d worry about it later, after she’d asserted her independence with this beautiful, sexy beast. She was still fully dressed when he came back into the alcove. He gave her a curious glance. “My hands are shaking,” she said. “Maybe you could help me.” She dropped her suit jacket on the chair behind her, but it slithered to the floor. She shrugged and tried to quell her internal tremors. If he continued to look at her that way, she might come from anticipation alone. In two long steps he crossed to stand in front of her. The musky scent of his cologne reached her and her head swam. Darq Stone was nothing like she’d expected him to be. In fact, with his long-sleeved casual shirt and black Dockers, he didn’t even appear to have any tattoos of his own. She wondered if she might convince him to show her all of his body as well. “Would you like me to unbutton your blouse?” She nodded. “Yes.” The word came out as a breathless whisper. She held herself utterly still until he obliged, raising his hands and clasping the first tiny button. It popped open under his expert touch and Makena gasped. Good Lord, if just having him open one button felt this good, what would it feel like if he actually put his hands on her? She’d come apart under him. The next button went and Makena felt his warm breath on the vee of flesh exposed above her collar. “Are you considering an image above one of your breasts?” His voice had gone thick. His eyes were locked on the third button of her blouse. “I’m not sure. Maybe the small of my back, or on my shoulder. Or my inner thigh.”
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“That’s a very sensitive area. You might not be able to wear a tight skirt or pantyhose for several days after the work is done. That could interfere with your job.” “I have vacation time coming.” Two more buttons. Makena wanted to put her hands on his broad shoulders and lean on him. Her legs felt rubbery and each breath hitched in her chest. “Pull my blouse out of my skirt, please.” He hesitated only a second then tugged the creamy yellow silk out of her waistband. She didn’t need to ask him to push the blouse off her shoulders or to run one finger under the strap of her bra. She bent forward to ease the intense ache that crawled up from her pussy to her womb. Her stomach clenched when his breath hit the bare skin of her shoulder. “Do you see a spot you like?” He didn’t answer. Instead he curled his fingers around the satiny strap and pulled it down, almost exposing her breast. He ran his fingers over the skin below her shoulder and then into the cup of her bra. Every nerve in her body went tight and she gasped when his fingers grazed the smooth skin just above her nipple. “You’re very sensitive here as well. The process can be painful in certain areas. I wouldn’t want to see you in discomfort for a long period of time…unless you like pain. Some people do…they get a sexual satisfaction out of being tattooed.” “I don’t know if I would…ah…” “Turn around.” She obeyed on wobbly legs. In her mind’s eye, he put his hand on her back, just between her shoulder blades and pushed forward so that she bent over the chair. She pictured herself spreading her legs for him and biting her lower lip hard while he lifted her skirt and probed between her thighs for the hardening nub of her clit.
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Instead he merely removed her blouse, sliding the cuffs over her wrists. He placed the garment on the stool he’d been sitting on and then brought his hands up in delicate strokes along her spine to the clasp of her bra. “Will you allow me to—” “Yes!” He laughed once, deep and sure of himself. Makena almost came when he unhooked the clasp of her bra. The lacy cups fell forward onto the chair and she was naked from the waist up with her back to Darq Stone. She held her breath for his next move. She didn’t dare say a word because every thought in her head screamed, Fuck me, dammit! Make me come. “Turn around.” God, yes. She wanted him to look at her. She wanted to slide off her skirt and her panties and fall back into the soft velvet cushions of his chair and spread her legs. And she wanted to forget who she was, where she was, and that she’d known him all of twenty minutes. She closed her eyes and obeyed.
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Chapter Two Darq let out his breath slowly, willing himself not to pounce. Makena Brady stood before him wearing only her gray pinstriped skirt and sharptoed black pumps. She wasn’t the kind of woman who wore pantyhose, he surmised. With those perfect legs, she didn’t need them in the warmer weather. That meant beneath her skirt he might find a pair of satin panties or, heaven help him, a thong. He’d find out soon enough, but for now he feasted on the perfection of her breasts. Round and full enough to fuel any man’s fantasies, they begged to be touched. Her nipples were rosy pink, tight buds that spoke of her arousal. She wanted him so badly she could barely hold herself upright and he wanted to indulge her every desire. The only thing holding him back was the concern that she still might think better of this idea. She’d come in here looking for absolution—to indulge the need to free herself from the expectations of others who didn’t know her soul. Could he do that for her with sex? Did she really need to come with a complete stranger between her legs to finally feel free? Darq knew one thing. He didn’t want to be a stranger to Makena Brady. He wanted to know her, all of her, and he wanted her to know him. If he took her now, like she wanted him to, she’d leave when they were finished and she’d never, ever have the courage to come back. “Show me where you think you’d like to work on me.” He licked his lips again. She was going to torture him, wasn’t she? He stepped forward and brushed his fingers over the top of one breast. The nipple reacted, tightening and standing erect. Darq did the same. He could have been inside her in an instant, but he held back.
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“Right here. Low, so that a bra would hide it. If that’s what you want. If you want something that only you and those most intimate with you will ever see.” “How about the back of my shoulder?” She turned, and her ass bumped against his hips. His erection surged. “Of course the back of the shoulder is a popular place. Or right here at the nape of your neck.” He brushed his fingers over that spot, disturbing the fine golden hairs that had escaped from her tight hairdo. He loved the surprised gasp she made and that goose bumps rose over the creamy expanse of her back. Without asking, he slid his hands into the waistband of her skirt and opened the small hook above the zipper. She arched her back, pressing her hips toward him just enough to convey an invitation. He lowered the zipper one inch at a time until the skirt fell open, revealing pink panties topped with a thick band of lace. The skirt dropped to the floor and Makena stepped out of it immediately. She slid her thumbs into her panties. “Should I take these off too?” He wanted so badly to say yes, but if he did, he’d have her bent over the chair before she took her next breath. It was time to come clean or get really, really dirty, and he didn’t want to risk it with her yet. The time would come when he would fuck Makena Brady like she wanted him to, but they both would have to wait a little longer for release. He put his hands on her hips and pulled her gently back against him. She’d feel his erection and she’d know that he wanted her. The faint moan that escaped her lips was almost his undoing, and he sighed against the nape of her neck. “Makena. I would love to put my hands inside and slide these off you. I would love for you to step out of them and turn around for me and have you lie down on my chair so I could do things to you…” His fingers tightened on her flesh, digging into the
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softness of her hips and pulling her rounded ass against him. She threw her head back and rested it on his shoulder. “You can. Please…” “No.” “Why not?” “You know why. You need someone to fuck you… God, I want to do it for you, but if I do, I’m your crazy one-night stand. I’m a freaky afternoon in the tattoo parlor. You’ll blush whenever you think about it, and for a while you’ll get that secret little smile on your lips when you remember my hands on your body. Then, when enough time passes, it will be that story you share with your girlfriends when you’re all drunk enough to start telling each other about the things that you’re ashamed of having done. I don’t want to be that guy.” He brushed his lips over the smooth skin beneath her ear, teasing himself as well as her, giving her a promise of future intimacy. “I want to be more than just the man you fantasize about ten years after you’re married when sex with your husband is boring and routine and you imagine yourself spread out under me begging me to rip your panties off.” She pressed back against him, still eager, but trembling so hard he thought she might collapse. He wrapped an arm around her waist and steadied her. She felt like liquid satin in his arms. “I want you,” he whispered. “Don’t think I don’t.” She nodded, her breathing shallow. “Lie down on the chair. I’m going to do something to you.” She stiffened. Whether in fear or anticipation he wasn’t quite sure. To soothe her, he indulged in his own fantasy and kissed her shoulder. “It’s all right. You’ll love every minute of it, and you won’t regret it later on.”
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Makena obeyed Darq’s command. She turned, disengaging from his warm embrace, and sank into the chair. The prim and proper part of her mind, which had gone to sleep the moment she walked into SkIntense, begged to grab her blouse and slip it back on, but the part that had taken over wished to remain this way—mostly naked, bold and bare for him. She took a deep, unsteady breath and sat down. The sensation of the soft curves of the chair cushioning her body as she lay back was almost as good as sex. She felt completely wicked like this, reclined, her legs stretched and spread slightly. Could he tell how damp her panties were? She should have been insulted that he rejected her, but she felt anything but rejected. Her eyes tracked him while he moved her blouse to another stool and sat down. He opened a rolling cabinet and began taking out supplies. Tubes, cloth and what appeared to be an airbrush came out of the cabinet piece by piece. He arranged each item with the skill of an artist and the reverence of a lover. Her fingers tightened on the arms of the chair. “Spread your legs a little wider.” Her clit gave an anticipatory pulse that had her blushing. God, why wouldn’t he allow her to strip completely? She wanted it so badly. She shifted her legs so her inner thighs were exposed. “I’m going to give you a temporary tattoo,” he said. He assembled the rest of the airbrush and put in an ink cartridge. “Just some black work, a line drawing with a little shading. It will dry in a few minutes and you can put your clothes back on without staining them.” Who said she wanted to put her clothes back on? “I do this for customers who aren’t sure if they can get used to having an image put on permanently. I’ll do a temporary airbrush tattoo that lasts between seven and fourteen days. Usually, by the time it wears off, they decide they love it and want it put on permanently.” 22
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Makena nodded. That sounded perfect. She could lie here and let him draw on her, do whatever he wanted to her for hours and hours… “Don’t worry, it’s painless. In fact some people find it very relaxing.” “Take off your shirt for me.” The words spilled out before the thought was fully formed in her head. He looked up, obviously surprised by her command. After a second, his eyes narrowed and his sensual lips pursed in amusement. A giddy wave of anticipation washed over her when he set down his brush and began to unbutton his shirt. She licked her lips, imagining what he’d look like naked. Each movement made her hotter. The flick of his wrists as he opened the cuffs of his shirt, the stretch of his shoulders when he pulled the tails out of his pants, caused reactions in her body that she hadn’t felt in the past unless a man was actually touching her. Why did he affect her so strongly? Was it the anticipation—knowing he wouldn’t fuck her now even though he wanted to? Could she make him change his mind? She writhed in the chair, wishing she could slide her own hands into her panties and ease the building ache. What would he do if she brought herself to orgasm while he watched? Did she dare? The idea made her hotter than she’d ever been in her life, but she resisted. She wanted him to lead her, to tell her what he wanted her to do. She let out her breath when he finally pulled off his shirt, revealing smooth, tanned skin. Only a slight smattering of black hair dusted his chest. His nipples were tight and round on bulging pectorals that spoke of vigorous workouts. His abs were toned and tightly ridged, but even more impressive than his physique was the image that became visible as he turned to place his shirt over the stool on top of hers. It spanned half his chest and swirled around across the rippling muscles of his back. “That’s magnificent.” Makena sat forward, curling her body upward, one hand outstretched. She longed to run her fingers over the indigo dragon that wrapped around his body. Its massive head rested just above his heart and one wing spread across his abdomen. Its tail, which tapered to almost nothing then flared to a fan shape, 23
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curled around his waist. Another outstretched wing spread across his back as if the mythical beast were embracing him. “Thank you.” “Who did it for you?” “My partner. Heath Gyland. He’s the best there is…next to me, of course.” He smiled, but he sounded humbled. Makena could see why. In the right light, she imagined the beast might look as if it could come to life and climb off his body. The colors were so rich they seemed to shimmer. The lines were exquisite and somehow innately sensual. The creature was more than just a fanciful animal, it was a being with a distinct personality and it wrapped around his body in a protective posture. Every muscle in her body went tight when Darq leaned over her. “Would you like to touch it?” God, yes. She wanted to run her hands all over him, and her tongue as well. Without comment, her eyes locked with his. She put her hands on his chest and caressed the beast, almost expecting to feel the translucent scales beneath her fingers, but her hands met only warm, taut skin. Boldly, she dropped her fingers to the waistband of his pants. He drew in a sharp breath. “Makena, if you push me, I’ll lose control. I know that’s not what you want right now. You’re not ready.” She wanted to argue, to beg him, but something in his eyes made her obedient. She wanted to be exactly what he needed. She wanted him to lose control, but not if it meant she’d never see him again. He straightened and his eyes roamed her body, pausing on her breasts, her navel, her thighs. “Let me paint you and then…let me take you to dinner.” She nodded. Could she stand to sit across a restaurant table from him with her body on fire like this? He sat back down on the stool and picked up his brush. “Any further requests?” He gave her a saucy wink. “And no. I’m not taking off my pants. Yet.”
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She laughed—giggled actually—and the tension fled from her. “In that case, no. No further requests.” “Good. Now spread your legs for me, so I can get to work.”
Darq had never held his cool for so long around a woman he wanted to possess. Makena Brady was doing everything in her power to make his afternoon both intensely tortuous and totally unforgettable. She lay still on the reclining chair, her limbs relaxed and liquid, her breathing shallow almost as if she were meditating or asleep, yet he sensed the coiled tension in her belly. The exotic scent of her perfume mingled with the vaguest hint of her arousal and each breath he drew seemed to inflate his erection higher and harder. If she only knew how close he was to tearing those pink panties off her and taking what she offered. They’d both regret that, though. She was more than an afternoon diversion and he needed to convince her that once they did make love, it would be something deeper and more bonding than the joining of two heretofore unacquainted bodies. He breathed slow to steady his hand and continued his work on the image that was coming to life on her inner thigh. He’d chosen his favorite subject, a female dragon. The image curved along Makena’s creamy skin with the head arched up, as if looking for the secret places hidden between her thighs, and the tail pointed down toward the sensuous spot at the back of her knee. He wished he could add color, but that would take too long and he wanted to get Makena up and dressed and somewhere they could talk without the heady sexual overlay that surrounded them here. He’d never look at this chair the same way again. He’d always imagine Makena lying beneath him as he leaned over her, her breasts arched upward, daring him to touch, her lips parted asking him to fuck her. He would.
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When she was ready, he would give her everything she asked for and a few things she’d never even imagined. “I’m almost done,” he whispered, letting his breath raise the skin around her navel to goose bumps. “How do you feel?” “Fantastic. I’ve had massages that weren’t as relaxing as this.” Her eyes remained closed but her lips curved in a glorious smile and parted expectantly when he placed his palm on her belly. He wanted to feel her skin, her warmth, and the almost-intimate touch was meant to remind her he hadn’t forgotten how much he wanted her. “So soft. I’d like to taste you later. Would you let me?” She nodded. Her breathing had become quick. Her eyes fluttered open. “Yes.” “Good.” He looked away, pleased that he’d aroused her again so easily. He bent his head to the task of placing a few final brushstrokes and then put his equipment aside. “There. I’m done. You can look now.” She sat up halfway, curling her torso to look at his work. “She’s beautiful.” “How do you know it’s a female?” He raised a brow. Though the image was definitely feminine, most people who requested dragon tattoos couldn’t tell one type or one sex from another. “Her eyes. She’s looking for a mate,” Makena said. Her long lashes hid her eyes for a moment. “She’ll find one, soon enough. She’s also a guardian. No other man will pass through the gate as long as she stands watch.” Makena gave him a curious look. He’d worried at first that she might be offended by his words but something in the way she moved told him she accepted that he’d branded her—laid a claim to her body, at least temporarily. “Lie back.” He pushed her shoulders gently back to the cushion of the chair and she sighed up at him. “Wait here for a few minutes while I put my supplies away. Then the ink will be dry and you can get dressed.”
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He didn’t wait for a response but swept out of the alcove, keeping the dark curtain in place for privacy. Two deep breaths calmed him and centered his desires, cordoning them off for later. He crossed the empty shop and scooped up the phone behind the counter. With his eyes on the streetlights and passing traffic visible through the front window, he dialed Heath’s apartment. “Perfect timing. I just walked in.” SkIntense’s senior proprietor answered without preamble. Most people assumed he had caller ID, but Darq knew better. “How was the interview?” Darq asked, his tone light. Heath had been uptown all day dealing with a relentless reporter who wanted to spotlight the shop in a new tattoothemed magazine called Flash. Heath had put her off for a while, uncertain that he wanted that much publicity. He preferred word of mouth and a somewhat exclusive clientele. “I charmed the pants off her.” Darq raised a brow. “I’m not surprised. I assume you mean literally?” Heath’s indulgent chuckle surprised him. “Not yet, but I’m working on it. And what about you? I can tell by your tone that you’ve had an interesting day.” Darq closed his eyes. It was too late to shield his thoughts from his partner, even at this distance. “I just wanted to ask if you’d cover for me this evening. I want to take someone out to dinner.” “Not just someone, I gather.” “I don’t have to explain it to you, do I? It’s just one of those connections.” “Go. Have fun. But be careful, Darq. Now might not be the time to get involved in something complicated.” “What makes you think that?” “Just a bad feeling I’ve got. A tickle at the back of my neck.” “I’ll be careful. How soon can you get here?”
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“My first appointment isn’t until nine. If you lock up now, leave a sign saying we’ll reopen then.” “Thanks. I appreciate this.” “If she’s that important to you, I’m obligated to assist, aren’t I?” Heath’s familiar voice held a hint of amusement though his words were far from teasing. “If I didn’t feel so strongly—” “No further explanation necessary. Go. Enjoy her.” “I plan to.”
***** Makena stroked the smooth skin of her inner thigh, enjoying the feel of her own fingers on her flesh and reveling in the beauty of Darq’s work. If she didn’t know better, she might have believed the exquisite little dragon that now decorated her skin enjoyed the touch as well. Guardian. She liked the idea of having something with her that possessed such strength and determination, something that marked her as belonging to him. She’d never felt that way before, never considered herself as belonging to anyone. Even Reed, close as they’d become during the years they spent together, had never made her feel the way Darq Stone did. She felt owned by him, in a sweet, sensual way that made her body clench in all the right places. How could that be? She’d never seen him before—she checked her watch—ninety minutes ago, and yet she felt freer with him than she had with anyone else she’d ever known. Her stomach did a flip at the memory of him looming over her in the chair, her hands on his chest, the heat of him warming her skin. This swift, unnatural attraction worried her a little. She’d never feared losing herself in someone else, but while staring into Darq’s tawny eyes, breathing evenly and slowly while he layered the graceful lines of the dragon on her body, she’d been somewhere else, almost someone else entirely. 28
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She heard his voice, muffled by the heavy curtain that separated her from the rest of the shop. It sounded like a one-way conversation—he must be on the phone. She toyed once again with the naughty idea of sliding her panties off and letting him find her completely naked. His warning that he might lose control should have frightened her, but instead it intrigued her, like a dare. That wasn’t like her to want to tease a man into taking her. She’d never played those games before. The thought of playing them now with Darq Stone almost made her feel ashamed. He was better than that. He deserved good behavior from her and this wasn’t the time or the place or the man with which to indulge any long-repressed slut fantasies. Nevertheless, she knew with utmost certainty that she would give him her body— soon. Any time he wanted it, in fact, and it would be when he wanted it. He was in control somehow, and for once in her life, she liked it that way. With a small pang of regret, she climbed out of the chair and retrieved her bra and blouse from the stool. Her skin had become hypersensitive during the time he’d worked on her, and even sliding the silk and satin over her body felt like a lover’s caress. She sighed, wishing for a quick way to achieve release before he returned so she could concentrate on having dinner with him. With her blouse hanging open and her skirt still on the floor, Makena considered putting her hand into her panties. A few quick strokes would do it. She’d never been so ready before, but the moment her fingertips dipped below the lace band of her underwear, Darq returned. Makena jumped and clutched her open blouse around her. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. My partner is on his way here, so we can go, whenever you’re ready. If you’re still interested.” “Of course.” She nodded and ran her still shaky fingers through the strands of hair that had come out of the tight chignon she wore. Even though they hadn’t done anything, she probably looked like a woman well fucked. She felt that way too.
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Darq’s eyes slid down her body, lingering once again on her panties and now the glorious artwork on her thigh. “How does it feel?” She tilted her head and began buttoning her blouse. “Fine. Why shouldn’t it?” He shook his head. “Sorry. With permanent tattoos, I normally ask that. People have different reactions. But…tell me honestly, it makes you feel different, doesn’t it?” God, yes. She nodded. “I’m not sure I can explain it.” “Maybe you’ll find the words as the evening progresses.” There was something about the emphasis he put on the last word that caused Makena to shiver. There would definitely be progress this evening. He reached down and picked up her skirt and his shirt from where they’d slid to the floor. “Do you like Greek food?” Makena blushed again as she accepted her skirt. Their fingertips touched, barely made contact, but she felt the electric charge from him. He was all coiled power, controlled chaos under his cool manners. The thought of unleashing that power caused her aching clit to pulse with need. “What? Oh…Greek food? Sure. I like just about everything.” “Great. I know a place just around the corner. Their moussaka is fantastic.” “That sounds wonderful…” Makena hesitated. Was she really accepting a date with this man? Well, considering she’d just been moments away from pleading with him to fuck her, dinner seemed absurdly anticlimactic. Another nervous laugh bubbled up and she had to concentrate on the nearly impossible task of guiding her trembling legs back into her skirt. When she looked up, he’d finished buttoning his own shirt and was tucking the tails back into his pants. He looked utterly calm and professional. “I can promise you a fabulous meal and a fascinating evening, Makena. Don’t be afraid.” “I’m not.”
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“You are. Of yourself and your own reactions. It’s all right. Remember, you’re totally in control.” For the moment, she added silently. When she scooped up her jacket and purse and allowed him to escort her out of the front of the shop, she had the distinct and undeniable impression that there would come a time when she lost that control completely to Darq Stone. She couldn’t wait.
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Chapter Three The waitstaff at Pantelas greeted Darq with their usual sunny smiles and warm hugs. Andre, the owner and manager of the little bistro, automatically included Makena in his enthusiastic greeting. The man was half Darq’s height and twice his age, but he still managed an appreciative whistle as he showed them to a secluded table in the back. “Magnificent! Darq, where have you been hiding this beautiful creature?” For a moment, Darq felt a pang of self-consciousness. He didn’t date clients. He’d refused the advances of a lot of women who’d come through SkIntense’s front door. “We…just met and decided to share a meal while we get better acquainted.” He winked at Makena whose lovely cheeks flushed when she smiled. Andre seemed satisfied with the explanation and, with the skill of a master magician, produced a basket of crusty bread slices and a shallow dish of fine olive oil and placed them on the table as they sat down. “There is no better way to get acquainted than over the best food in the city. If I do say so myself.” He placed one large hand over his narrow chest and leaned forward. “And I’m not biased in any way, of course. I’ll bring some mezedes, and let me see, Darq, I know you don’t need a menu but for the lady…?” “I’d be happy to order for you. I know what Andre’s specialties are,” Darq offered. Again, Makena hesitated—that faint resistance to giving up control had returned. In the shop, she’d been utterly at his mercy, but he relished that defiant streak and he wanted to tease it out, play with it. Later, when they were alone he could learn more about how Makena Brady worked. “Of course. I defer to your judgment. If it tastes half as good as everything smells in here, I’ll love it.”
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Andre laughed and hurried off, barking orders in Greek to his sons and daughters, nieces and nephews who worked in the restaurant. Everyone moved with utmost precision, obeying their patriarch’s every good-natured command. Part of why Darq loved this place was because it reminded him of home, where a large family worked together like a finely tuned machine, always for the greater good. Here, in the bustling dining room of Pantelas, he always felt less homesick. “I get the feeling you come here a lot.” Makena deftly chose a piece of bread and Darq watched while she dipped the tip of the crust in the aromatic oil and took a bite. “Every chance I get. I’d be three feet wide if I ate here as often as I’d like to. Andre had to widen the front door shortly after he first opened up, because once his customers had dinner here, they had trouble squeezing back outside.” Her eyes, now a beguiling green in the reflected glow of the red hurricane lamp on the table between them, widened in mock horror. “Oh no. And me in my ‘thin-day’ skirt.” She laughed, this time without the undertone of apprehension he’d heard before. Now, out in a public place, she’d begun to loosen up. Darq smiled. This was the woman he wanted to know—in addition to the one who’d just stripped down to her panties and spread her legs for him, accepting his touch and his artistic vision. He hadn’t found a female quite so intriguing in a long time. One of Andre’s daughters, a lovely sloe-eyed college freshman named, predictably enough, Maria, brought their drinks—ouzo in a graceful white carafe, along with tall tumblers of ice water and an enticing dish of marinated olives and slices of hard cheeses. Once the appetizers had been arranged on the table, Darq placed their dinner order in fluent Greek. When they were alone again, Makena sighed. “This looks so good, I’m full just looking at it.” “You’ll find room for everything, I promise. You won’t want to turn down a morsel of Andre’s food.” 33
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The light shifted and Makena’s beguiling eyes changed to a deeper, more mysterious shade of golden green. “I plan to leave room for dessert. There will be dessert, won’t there?” “I can guarantee we’ll be tasting something sweet before the night is over.” Her smile widened. “You’re good, Mr. Stone. Very charming.” “I try. Now before all our attention is focused on Andre’s magical creations, let me ask you a few more intimate questions.” She flushed again, and one delicate hand came up to play at the neckline of her blouse. “What would you like to know?” “What made you choose today to get a tattoo? Is it a special occasion?” “I suppose it is now.” Her eyes actually seemed to twinkle in the flickering light of the flame. The heady scent of seasoned beef and scallions swirled out of the nearby kitchen, adding to the perfect ambiance of the moment. “But no…I just…decided I’d waited long enough.” “And realized you didn’t need permission from anyone else?” “Yes.” The admission wasn’t easy. The word came out slowly, as if she were trying to pull it back in before he heard it. “Before today, you did though…need permission. You were worried what other people would think.” “Of course. I’ll admit it—I’ve been repressed, depressed, stressed—you name it. Too busy to indulge myself. I wanted a change and chose today to let myself go a little bit. I guess because it’s Friday, if nothing else.” “Are you disappointed that I didn’t just do as you asked and give you the character tattoo you were looking at?”
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“No…I…” Her gaze dropped to the table, and Darq knew she was imagining the picture he’d painted on her thigh. She licked her lips. “I wasn’t expecting this, but I certainly enjoyed it. That reminds me, what do I owe you for—” He gave her a warning look. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Don’t even mention it.” “Thank you…” “I’ll tell you right now, Makena, you’ll never pay me for the work I do for you.”
Another set of conflicting emotions coursed through Makena at Darq’s words. Relief and gratitude battled with shame that she might have offended him. She’d never expected to walk out of SkIntense with a free tattoo and dinner. A sudden guilty sense of anticipation mixed with everything else she was feeling. Could she ask him for more? In her mind, she pictured herself lying completely naked on a black satin sheet while Darq painted every inch of her skin—her breasts, her thighs, long, sensual images across her back and her ass. Beneath the table, she shifted to accommodate the sudden surge of wet heat in her panties. No ouzo for her. She reached for her water glass and gulped the ice-cold liquid. “What’s happening here?” The question slipped out after the last swallow of water. “I feel like we’ve skipped a few steps.” He nodded. “I know. I’m sorry. I suppose we let ourselves get carried away. I find you fascinating and beautiful. I’d like to get to know you better if you’d permit me, and I have to tell you now, I can’t foresee a business relationship between us. This is something more.” She should have been startled, even a little frightened. She’d never had such intense feelings for someone she barely knew, yet she couldn’t help but agree with everything Darq said. There was a strange connection between them that seemed to be growing by the moment.
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“Well, then, we’d better start getting to know each other. Question for question. It’s my turn to ask you a few things.” He smiled indulgently and raised his small ceramic cup in a half toast. “Proceed.” “How did you get into tattooing?” “I’ve been an artist since I was a child. I learned from members of my family and carried the tradition here when I set up the shop with my partner. I really never considered doing anything else, though I sometimes do airbrush work for commercial pieces, cover art for magazines and books as a bit of a hobby, but I prefer working in tattoos.” “Carried the tradition from where? You don’t have an accent, but if I had to guess, I’d say you might have Greek roots?” She raised her eyebrows at their surroundings. Maria waltzed in with large charger plates and set them down, then refilled Makena’s water glass before disappearing again. “I have roots in many places. My home is an island as far from here as you can imagine.” For some reason that evasive answer satisfied Makena for now. There were hundreds of Greek islands, probably some whose names didn’t appear on any map. Before she could formulate her next question, Darq intercepted. “Tell me about the conservative company you work for. What do you do?” “I’m the community relations manager for Sedwick Masters, the plastics company.” Makena managed not to cringe when she said it. Her job had grown harder by degrees over the past year since SM had been accused of dumping some toxic chemicals into the river. The last person she’d told her job title to had harangued her for twenty minutes about the terrible environmental effects of the plastic-manufacturing business. Of course it could be worse. At least she didn’t work for a tobacco company. Darq, fortunately, seemed unperturbed by her revelation. “Do you enjoy your work?”
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“Most of the time. I love my coworkers. They’re wonderful people, if a little uptight now and then. We work hard and people forget a lot of times that without our products, they’d be missing an awful lot of luxuries they take for granted in their daily lives.” “You sound apologetic.” Before Makena formed her answer, Maria appeared with two steaming plates of moussaka and set them on the chargers. “Very hot,” she said, in a lilting accent. Makena took a deep breath of the vapors rising from her plate and sighed. She hadn’t smelled anything this wonderful in…her whole life. “My God! This looks fantastic.” “I told you.” Darq tore into the food and pointed to her plate with his fork. “Don’t let it get cold.” “It’s still sizzling.” Makena indulged in a mouthwatering bite. The flavors were indescribable. She moaned. “Thank goodness for that extra-wide door. I may need it.” Darq laughed. “Now you’re apologetic?” “Mmm…well, yes. I guess I’m used to defending the company. We do our best not to damage the environment, but some of it can’t be helped. People need plastics. The medical profession alone would come to a standstill, the automotive industry, food packaging…” “You don’t need to sell me. I like plastic.” Now his eyes sparkled with a bit of mischief. She loved those moments when he seemed to come down to earth. She had the impression that Darq Stone was a man of intense power, who didn’t let his guard down very often. She wondered why, since he also seemed so guileless and genuine at times. “Well, anyway, that’s what I do for a living. I try to make people accept the fact that they rely on products that aren’t exactly risk-free. We also run programs to help the community, like charity work, career days for local schools and cleanup projects.”
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“And body art wouldn’t fit with your corporate image, would it?” “I’m afraid it would raise a few eyebrows. So nothing below the knee for me, or above the neckline.” “But every inch in between is fair game?” Makena swallowed hard and met Darq’s feral gaze. “Before this afternoon I might have said no, but now—” “Now everything is different, isn’t it?”
Everything was indeed different. The sights and sounds of the city seemed to have changed, become brighter, louder, more intense. The air tasted different and Makena felt lighter, freer, if such a thing were possible after all the fabulous food she’d shoveled in during dinner. Reed had always kept a close eye on what she ate. Being in the healthcare field, he’d claimed that her well-being was foremost in his mind, but she’d long had her doubts. He’d have never agreed to eat in a place like Pantelas and would have swooned at the amount of food Makena packed away. She might have felt selfconscious but for some reason, it didn’t bother her that she’d finished every morsel in front of Darq. He’d never batted a dark, curling eyelash at her, even when she’d grown bold enough to belt back a cup or two of sweet Greek wine with dessert. By the time Maria brought the check, they were laughing like old friends and Andre came out of the kitchen to kiss both her cheeks and bid them good night. “That was wonderful,” she said when they squeezed through the wide double doors of the restaurant side by side. “I never knew the place existed and now I can’t wait to come back.” “That’s the same reaction I had the first time I ate here. I feel guilty sometimes when I try other restaurants, you know? As though I’m cheating on a lover.” “Andre?” Makena cocked a brow at Darq as they swung out onto the sidewalk. “The food.” He chuckled.
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She laughed too then sobered a bit despite the alcohol surging to her giddy brain. She’d forgotten she wasn’t used to drinking anymore and wondered how the two glasses of wine would affect her. “Would you? Cheat on a lover?” Why had she asked that? “It’s not in my nature. I believe if you’re drawn to cheat on someone, then perhaps you’re not truly in love with them.” Makena nodded. Maybe that explained her feelings for Reed. She hadn’t cheated on him, but after months of fantasizing about other men, she’d realized he wasn’t the one for her. Maybe this was why, because Darq had been waiting to come into her life. Whoa. She tried to put on the mental brakes even as they strolled back toward the shop. Was he “in her life” already? How could this naughty little fling be a relationship already? Time to slow down. “Well, Darq, I had a fantastic time. I need to catch a cab and get home. I should do some more thinking about this tattoo decision.” He stopped mid-stride and swung around to level a serious gaze on her. “Is that what you want? To go home alone?” Her body tightened again on the memories of their time in the shop. Her fingers ached to unbutton her blouse for him again and her pussy dampened immediately at the sensual thoughts he stirred with just one innocent question. “Well, let’s be honest. If you come home with me…you’ll spend the night, won’t you? I know exactly what would happen if we went somewhere alone together.” “I don’t think you know exactly. I can dream up things you can’t even imagine.” Her spine tingled. “Stop,” she said through a grin. “You said yourself, this may be something more than just…a sexual thing.” “You’re right.” His voice lost that teasing timbre. He straightened his shoulders. “I’ll let you go, if you promise to call me when you get home and if you promise to come back to the shop tomorrow night.”
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“Tomorrow night?” “After closing, at nine. I’d like to choose another image for you, another temporary one for now and talk more about what you’d like permanently.” Makena had the strange feeling that he wasn’t just talking about tattoos. She had no doubt she’d come back. Just the thought of being alone with him again in the shop, lying in the velvet cushioned chair while he stroked an image onto her skin, made her ache with desire. “Why not now?” Good Lord, was her whisper that breathless and desperate? Only a moment ago she’d been intent on going home by herself. “My partner will be there now working on some of his clients. Tomorrow the place will be mine again.” “All right. I’ll be there.” Makena let out her breath. How would she get through the night without feeling him inside her? “Good.” He pulled his wallet out of his pants pocket and produced a small white business card, oddly plain for belonging to an artist. “My cell phone number is on the back. Call me. I’d prefer to escort you all the way home, but if I do…” She wanted to ask him exactly what would happen, longed to hear him describe in excruciating detail what he would do to her if he got her alone, but she couldn’t take any more sensory overload. Tucking the card in her purse, she stepped toward him and brushed her lips over the five o’clock shadow on his lower cheek. The scent of him grabbed her, filtered into her lungs and curled down to grip her belly. The heat of him, palpable through his shirt and through the fingertips he brushed over her arm, seared her senses. “Good night, Darq. I’ll talk to you in about an hour and I’ll see you tomorrow night. Thank you for this evening.” So formal a goodbye for someone who had seen more of her body than Reed had in their first three months of dating. “Good night, Makena. Safe journey home.”
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He waited with her only a minute or two before a cab pulled up—with her legs, what driver wouldn’t stop, after all? He closed the car door and waved her away, and the tension in his body drained. Why hadn’t he indulged? They’d both wanted it so badly, yet he felt if they’d gone somewhere private and he’d unleashed his burgeoning passion on her he might lose her. Makena Brady wasn’t quite ready for the intensity of his needs. She would be, in time, but there was a fragility to her that he respected. She was more than a sexual conquest. She was a queen and a concubine and a treasure and he planned to treat her as such, one by one. The mating dance had begun.
***** Makena let herself into her apartment with trembling fingers, nearly dropping her key twice. During the cab ride home, she’d zoned out a bit, and indulged in forbidden fantasies about the man she’d just met. While the driver had careened through midtown traffic, she’d slouched in the slippery vinyl seat and replayed the evening moment by moment in her head. She’d pictured Darq unbuttoning her blouse, sliding her bra strap off her shoulder, pushing her skirt down her legs. She practically threw a twenty at the cabbie, then apologized for her brusqueness and added a ten-dollar tip. He’d driven away happy and she pounded up the stairs to the second floor rather than taking the elevator and lurched through the door after fumbling with the key. The phone drew her attention immediately. Should she call him first or do something to calm her raging desires? What if she stripped naked and then called him and told him what she’d done? The thought made her already damp panties even wetter. She had to get them off, now.
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First her skirt came off, unzipped and dropped on the floor just inside the door. She kicked off her shoes and then thought better of it and slipped them back on even though her feet protested. Languidly, she paced toward the bedroom, unbuttoning her blouse as she went and scooping up the cordless phone from the half table that stood against the living room wall. She’d memorized his number in the cab and dialed the first six digits, then paused to shrug out of her blouse and unfasten her bra. The cool air of her bedroom hit her nipples and they tightened immediately as if Darq himself had caressed them. She sighed. Sitting on the edge of her bed, she dialed the last four digits of his number and lay back on the cushiony folds of the satin duvet, listening to the distant ring. With her heels perched on the edge of the bed, she spread her legs and confronted the dragon guardian he’d given her. The female’s eyes seemed to sparkle and, Makena hadn’t noticed before, but the beast’s tongue curled upward as if licking the smooth skin of her thigh. Fantastic. Sensual. Darq answered the phone, his voice rough and thick. “Makena?” “How did you know it was me?” “Caller ID, of course.” His accompanying chuckle was sensuous and sweet. “Of course.” She slid the fingers of her right hand into the waistband of her panties and down over the silky hair of her mound. Her body tensed. “I’m glad you’re home safely.” “I’m home and I’m looking at my little friend.” He hesitated, then realization seemed to hit him. “Oh. I hope you’re making her feel at home. She’ll serve you well for as long as she’s with you, you know.”
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“I think she likes it here. I’m lying on my bed with my legs apart so I can look at her. Your work is exquisite. She looks like she could come to life and bite me.” Makena giggled, then sighed as her fingers slid lower into the wet depths between her legs. “She may come to life, but she’ll never harm you. She was made only to protect you.” “Mmm…” Makena’s hips arched of their own accord. She wanted to tell him that she was touching herself, that she was wishing he was here with her with his fingers delving inside, stroking her. “Are you still there?” His voice rode over her like a caress. “Yes. I’m sliding my panties off right now, down over my hips…” “Makena…” His ragged exhalation excited her. With her panties halfway down her hips, she drew her fingers back up to find the swollen nub of flesh between her thighs. She gasped at her own commanding touch. Her hand parted the folds around her clit and began stroking with singular determination, seemingly guided by an unseen force. She arched into the touch as if it were Darq’s hand. “I can feel you,” he said. “You’re going to come for me.” She nodded, forgetting he couldn’t see her. Her fingers tightened around the phone and all her muscles grew taut. It made no sense, but she felt a rising pressure against her vaginal walls, as if he were entering her. She’d often imagined the hot glide of a cock inside her when she was alone, but she’d never felt it like this. She gasped at the fullness and she pictured him looming over her, pressing his hips between her damp thighs. “My God…” “That’s it, Makena. Take me in. Can you feel me inside you?” “Yess….oh!” Her body convulsed as if he’d thrust deep. Her heels dug into the soft duvet and she raised her hips off the bed as if to meet his incursion. Somewhere deep inside her a spark ignited in answer to the phantom thrust. “Oh yes!” “Good…good. Feel it. Let me fuck you hard, just the way you want it.”
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She sighed his name, letting her absent lover ride her until she couldn’t hold out any longer. On her next inhalation an orgasm rolled through her like wildfire. The force of it seemed to shatter her. Every inch of her body pulsed and she rocked with the wicked sensation. After a moment of utter bliss, she lay panting into the phone and feeling both supremely sexual and mildly self-conscious. She’d just had phone sex with a near stranger and every session of lovemaking she’d shared with Reed over the course of four years paled in comparison. How could that be? “Makena? Are you all right?” “Mmm…fine.” She swallowed hard, let out a satisfied sigh. “I can’t even imagine how good that will be in person.” He laughed and her heart pinged against her chest, seeming to swell and constrict her already taxed lungs. “Will be,” he said. “That means you will be coming tomorrow night?” When the last ripples of her orgasm faded, leaving her weak and content, she sat up slightly. “Of course. I can’t wait.” “Good. I was afraid that once you’d left, you might reconsider.” “No. I want to be with you again.” “You will be. Sleep now. Your guardian will protect you.” Exhaustion seemed to creep up on Makena. She mumbled goodbye and clicked off the phone then let the receiver slide out of her hand. Her eyelids felt like lead weights, and despite her halfhearted effort to focus her vision, they sagged. After a moment, she decided not to fight it. She’d take a short nap then get up, change into a nightshirt and brush her teeth after just a few minutes of blissful sleep…
When Makena hung up, Darq sagged against the kitchen countertop and let out a long, slow breath. He wished he’d been lying down too when she called. The physical force of their connection had drained his energy, but God, it was worth it.
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The drawback of psychological sex was that it left him with an unrequited erection. His cock still ached from wanting her, yet he felt, just as she did now somewhere across town lying on her bed alone, that he’d made love to her. He indulged his weak knees and sank into a kitchen chair, then placed his cell phone on the glass-topped table. A shadow passed over his reflection in the polished glass and he turned. “Heath. I thought you promised you’d use the door from now on.” His business partner stood in the arched doorway of the kitchen, backlit by the soft glow of the cylindrical lights that illuminated the sitting room beyond. He leaned his broad shoulder against the arch and raised a golden eyebrow at Darq. “Your essence is blood red. I’ve never seen you so charged.” “I’m fine.” “This woman…she has you by the balls already, doesn’t she?” “I’m in control. I won’t continue with her if I think it will put us in danger.” It was easy to say, and it was what Heath wanted to hear, but Darq had to wonder if he could stand to lose Makena so soon. Just these few moments without her had left him wanting and edgy. Was he feeling the first stirrings of a true bonding? Or just an undeniable lust for a woman who was obviously ripe for a sensuous adventure? Either way, he’d find out tomorrow night. Heath wisely vacated the doorway so Darq could pass through. “Maybe you should send a watcher to her,” he offered, his voice low. Darq paused with his back to Heath to hide his annoyed expression. He had no need to keep Makena under surveillance. She was no threat to their safety. “I gave her a guardian. That’s all she needs for now.” “I hope you’re right.” Heath’s final words floated after Darq as he closed the door to his bedroom. Once inside his sanctuary, he blocked out any thoughts of Heath’s real or imagined insecurities and trained his perceptions on Makena. It was his turn for release now. 45
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***** In her sleep Makena arched her back and moaned. A vivid dream had left her trembling and taut and now she struggled to sink back into a quiet rest. She’d been with Darq in a place of such ethereal beauty it had brought sharp tears to her eyes. A gentle breeze had stirred the folds of a gossamer robe that caressed her body in sensual waves. He had reached for her, his demanding hands parting the fabric and delving beneath to run along her sides and up to her breasts. She still felt the erotic sting where he’d pinched her nipples before drawing the tight buds one at a time into his hot mouth. He’d suckled so she felt the pull of it in her womb and she’d begged for him fill her aching pussy with his cock. The dream had faded with him lowering his mouth to her clit and tantalizing her with swift, light strokes that had her whimpering for more. Now she fought to calm herself, or to go back to that sexual fantasy and let him finish her off like she needed so desperately. After a few restless moments, she came partially awake. She thought she’d heard a strange noise, like the clattering of something across the ceramic tiles of her kitchen floor. The sound reminded her of her cat, Charlie—two years gone now, a victim of feline leukemia. As a kitten he’d taken to racing across the cool, uncarpeted floors in the predawn hours, his claws scrabbling while he chased imaginary prey. She missed him and knew it wasn’t uncommon for pet owners to imagine the sounds their beloved companions had made long after the animals were gone. She wanted to get up and look for Charlie, hoping that since she had to be dreaming, maybe she’d see him and remember the sweet, calming effect of his presence. She’d almost willed her heavy limbs to move when the sound came again, accompanied by a rasping hiss that cut through her languid rest and made her heart thud. What the hell is that? She opened her eyes, or thought she did, and tried to roll to one side to check the clock on her nightstand. Her movement was impeded by something, a weight on her body that held her flat against the soft duvet. She realized she’d never
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gotten up to change, but had fallen into a deep sleep with her panties still around her thighs and her shoes on. Shame crept over her momentarily. Here she lay like some harlot, mostly naked and feeling well used by a man she’d only just met. That’s when she felt him, or sensed him. The weight that pressed her into the bed felt decidedly masculine. She imagined hard thighs pressed against hers, large hands stroking down her sides and tugging at the lacy bond around her thighs. A sudden stab of fear drained away immediately. It was only a dream, vivid and satisfying, but not real. She allowed herself to sink into the sensation of Darq rising above her, his lean body positioned between her spread thighs. A shadow rose over her and a chittering sound from the corner drew her attention briefly as the sensation of a hand caressing her breast grew more intense. Above the shoulder of the man-shaped apparition hung the outline of a dragon. Her little guardian seemed to flutter above the bed, long forked tongue racing in and out. Makena’s heart jumped against her ribs and she moaned but not in fear. Her fantasy man was about to take her, and her own excitement was reflected in the glowing eyes of her dragon guardian. “Now Makena, open for me.” His voice echoed in her head and she obeyed, eager to feel him again as she had before when they talked on the phone. She could have sworn he’d been inside her then, long and hard, filling her to completion. She spread her legs, knees bent again and her heels digging into the mattress. “Darq!” “I’ve been on the edge all night, Makena. I need you now. I need you to accept me. Open for me.” She did. She’d have given him anything at that moment. The shadow form above her surged, blocking her view of the dim room. The dragon silhouette retreated and her body clenched as if around the hard, demanding shaft of a fully erect penis. Yes. She arched into the shadow and gasped at the claiming sensation. 47
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A hot pulse set off her own orgasm and she came hard, marveling at how little stimulation it took. She wasn’t even fully awake—or maybe not awake at all, yet her body convulsed against the waves of electric heat. Her thighs trembled with the force of it. “Darq?” The waves receded a moment later, like a tide ebbing without warning, and once again she lay spent, too tired to move, too content to care. She noted vaguely before she sank once again into a deep, and now dreamless, sleep that the skin of her inner thigh was pale, naked, unadorned. The guardian dragon was gone.
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Chapter Four Makena awoke late the next morning, feeling at the same time refreshed and edgy, like she’d had an overdose of caffeine. The Saturday morning sunlight seemed brighter and the cool, conditioned air of her apartment made her skin tingle. Her skin. Her first fully coherent thought was of the tattoo on her thigh. She’d dreamed that it was gone. Had she rubbed it off somehow in her sleep? Could it be the ink Darq used had faded so quickly despite his promise it would last for at least a week? She pushed the duvet down over her body, wondering vaguely when during the night she’d managed to cover herself. Her panties had worked their way down her legs and were tangled around her ankles. Her shoes had come off—at least she remembered kicking them aside at some point—and now lay stuffed at the very bottom of the bed, jammed between the duvet and rumpled sheets. To her relief, the guardian dragon was undamaged. The little female lay curled against her thigh, her one visible eye closed. Had it been a sleeping dragon yesterday? Odd how each time Makena looked at the image, she saw some new detail. Darq’s artistic abilities impressed her almost as much as his lovemaking skills. She smiled at the blush that crept over her cheeks as she rolled out of bed. “We haven’t even done anything,” she reminded herself. Two self-inflicted orgasms didn’t count as a sexual relationship, did they? She pondered that question while she dragged a clean pair of panties and an oversized t-shirt out of her bureau drawer. The mirror on the wall didn’t lie. She certainly looked like a woman in…love? No. She looked like a woman who’d gotten laid. Her breasts seemed a little fuller today, more perfect, the nipples already tight at the thought of him. Her lips looked redder, plumper—bee-stung was the word, wasn’t
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it? As though she’d been thoroughly kissed, yet their lips had never actually met. She remembered the sensual scrape of his stubble when she’d kissed him good night. The faint scent of his cologne lingered and the memory clenched the muscles in her belly. “Get a grip, Mak. You hardly know him.” But she planned to. What, after all, was stopping her? Reed was gone, for the better. She’d been alone for a couple of months during which time she’d rediscovered herself a little bit. Wasn’t it time to let someone in? Especially someone who affected her the way Darq Stone did. Off to the shower, she hummed tunelessly and forbade herself to fantasize about him while she stood naked and wet under the hot spray. She wanted to be ready for tonight, and a full day of wanting him would work to her advantage much better than wearing herself out alone. After coffee and a toasted bagel, she felt closer to normal, though a faint buzz seemed to charge her every movement. While she read the paper and jotted a quick shopping list, Darq was never far from her thoughts. By noon, she’d Googled him and felt somewhat naughty about it even though, in the twenty-first century, what man wouldn’t expect a woman to do a little checking up on him? Especially in a big city where too many freaks lurked under perfectly normal-looking exteriors. The Internet search turned up nothing unexpected. SkIntense had a website featuring photos of the shop and of Darq, looking sexy and debonair dressed all in black. With him in several of the shots was another man with golden blond hair and piercing blue eyes. The captions listed him as Heath Gyland, Darq’s partner in the business. Beyond that there was a page listing store hours, a phone and fax number, and driving directions from various points north and west of the city. Other pages held snippets of articles from various tattoo-themed publications that mentioned the store or either one of its owners. The next few hits on the Google search were tattoo-related sites that listed SkIntense among other establishments in the area, and then there were a number of personal sites, 50
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blogs and websites of people Makena guessed to be customers who mentioned Darq and his work. She skimmed these, looking for any negative references, but no one seemed at all displeased with the service they’d received at SkIntense. In fact, one female customer named Shay had posted a photo of herself with Darq, standing in the shop, the reclining chair visible behind them. The woman was tall, dark-haired and willowy and she displayed a tattoo of a dove in flight on her taut abdomen. Makena refused to acknowledge the pang of jealousy. Had Darq stretched this woman out in his chair as well and worked on her while she was mostly naked? The sultry look in her brown eyes certainly suggested she’d enjoyed herself. The caption under the picture read, “Put yourself in his hands! Yum.” Makena dismissed the site with a temperamental click of her mouse. Whatever. Would she have preferred to find complaints or some obscure article detailing his criminal record or other perversions? He seemed to be a perfectly normal business owner and that eased her mind a bit. She skipped the entire second page of references after the sites began turning up other people with the same first or last name and finally a champion Akita named Darq Storm. She laughed at that. His parents certainly would have to be eccentric to have given him such an unusual name. Of course, Makena wasn’t exactly a common name, either. She’d taken her share of ribbing as a child and unlike Darq, as a teenager, she’d grown tired of explaining the origins of her name and telling people she was not a longlost member of The Brady Bunch. She’d long ago vowed to only give her own children ordinary names to spare them the barrage of inevitable jokes. With her snooping done, she decided to get on with her weekend chores and maybe pick up a new outfit. Not that she needed one, but wouldn’t it be fun to show up at the shop tonight in something sexy she’d purchased with him in mind? Preferably something silky and revealing and easy to remove. She dressed and left the apartment, still humming to herself.
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***** Darq woke late the next morning, groggy from a night spent in restless dreams. With a sigh, he ran a hand through his hair and over the sharp stubble on his jaw, then headed for the kitchen where Heath presided over a pot of strong coffee. His partner handed him a cup and leaned back against the counter to give him an appraising look. “Don’t you think it’s a little soon for sharing dreams with this woman?” he asked. Darq glared over the rim of his cup. “How did you know?” Heath sipped his own coffee. “You look exhausted for one thing. For another, the walls are thin.” Over the years they’d been together Darq had shared too much with his crèche brother to be embarrassed. He merely sipped his coffee and stared. “I told you we have a strong connection. It’s one worth pursuing.” “Do you want to risk that? We have no idea how long we’ll be safe here. We probably should have moved on months ago.” “I like it here. This world is too crowded for the Gemii to find us. We’re almost indistinguishable from six billion other souls here.” Heath paced the kitchen. “Almost isn’t good enough. I know you think I worry too much, but I’m old enough to remember what the Gemii did to the crèche. You’re not.” “You’ve told me about the massacre enough times.” “Then you should take the threat of being found more seriously.” Darq finished his coffee, set the cup in the sink and braced his hands on the counter. Even with his back to his partner, he knew his aura would tell Heath what he was thinking. “I’m getting tired of running, but I’m not foolish enough to think we’ve outsmarted the Gemii for good. I’ll be ready to go when the time comes.” “Good. As long as you’re aware the time may come sooner than you think.”
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***** The day wore on with Heath ensconced in the office at SkIntense buried in paperwork. Darq handled a few regular customers and charmed a couple of teenage girls into abandoning their plan to get tattoos of their boyfriends’ names on their backsides against parental advice. Each time the door of the shop opened, he thought of Makena. He’d woken up with the sultry scent of her on his mind and hadn’t been able to shake the undercurrent of anticipation he’d felt since parting with her last night. He thought of calling her, just to make sure she hadn’t changed her mind, but he forced himself to play it cool. He really only wanted to hear her voice and reestablish that connection he’d felt yesterday. He didn’t want her to think he was stalking her. As difficult as it was, he would force himself to wait until nine to see her, to touch her again. To pass the time he imagined what he’d do to her when he had her alone again. Would he undress her completely this time, layer by layer, until nothing barred her perfect skin from him? Would he paint on her again before he fucked her? Maybe tonight, he’d take her all the way and introduce her to the pleasure-pain of a real tattoo. If she was ready, if she wanted it.
***** Makena paused on the corner after she stepped out of the cab that had brought her back to SkIntense. The sign on the door said Sorry, We’re Closed and the front window was dark. For a moment, she feared that maybe she’d imagined her entire encounter with Darq the day before. It certainly seemed surreal and dreamlike. Her heart doubled its pace as she reached down to straighten the hem of the chocolate leather skirt she’d bought this afternoon. With a faint blush of self-consciousness, she glanced over her shoulder and down the darkened street. Was the outfit too suggestive? The tight skirt and skinny spandex t-shirt hugged her generous curves and revealed just the tip of the dragon’s tail resting above her knee on the inside of her thigh. 53
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Her leather sandals had high, clunky heels rather than sharp stilettos but they still showed off the legs she’d spent a small fortune on Pilates classes to sculpt. The thin laces that tied the neckline of the shirt together dangled between her breasts, hung with wooden beads that matched the tone of the skirt. She’d opted for short earrings, plain gold studs like the one Darq wore, and she’d pulled her hair into a loose ponytail with a feathery band of stretchy lace. She’d gone light on her makeup. This wasn’t, after all, a club date. What was it? A rendezvous? An affaire du coeur? A booty call. She rolled her eyes. In the twenty-first century a woman was more than entitled to want a man just for sex, right? Why should she play coy and pretend she didn’t expect to be well fucked this evening? She’d gone as far as to slip a pair of condoms in her purse, just to be certain nothing stood in the way of her getting what she came for. That thought almost turned her right around. There was still a small part of her mind that vehemently protested her sudden foray into sexual freedom. She’d always been a good girl, even during her teen years when several of her girlfriends had found themselves pregnant or dealing with other even more troublesome consequences of promiscuity, Makena had lived up to the wholesome connotation of her last name. She’d been a virgin until the age of twenty-one, for heaven’s sake. And now all she could think about was getting inside the shop and tearing off her clothes for Darq. She might have turned away, hailed another cab, but his appearance at the door of the shop grounded her flighty thoughts. There he was, looking sexier than yesterday if that was possible. He unlocked the glass door and held it open for her. “Are you going to stand out there all night?” “It’s a nice night. I was just—”
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“Debating whether or not to run for your life?” His wide grin tempered the sinister bent of his words and she laughed. “I was going to say, I was just taking a few deep breaths, but, yes, you’re more on the money.” “We don’t have to go inside you know. We can go get a drink, or something to eat. Have you had dinner?” Makena crossed the sidewalk and joined him at the door. He looked taller somehow and more imposing in a black button-down shirt and gray, stonewashed jeans. He immediately bent his head and brushed a quick kiss on her cheek. The musky scent of his aftershave battled with her resolve and won. She leaned into him. “I ate a little something at five.” “Maybe later we can go for something light, if you’re in the mood. Tell me what you’d like to do.” She met his gaze. “What did you have in mind when you invited me here? You could have asked me out to dinner again, or a movie. You have plans for me, Mr. Stone. I came tonight because I think I know what those plans are.” His eyes held hers for a long moment then he took her hand and drew her inside. “My plans include drawing on you again and several other, more intimate artistic pursuits. Are you ready for that?” Her knees felt weak already. “Yes.” “Good. Go in the back. I’m going to lock up again. Fortunately Heath doesn’t have any appointments scheduled for tonight.” She obeyed and had to ask herself why she did so without any trepidation at all. It seemed the moment she was in his presence, he commanded her senses. Her hold on her own free will seemed to loosen and she found herself wanting nothing more than to have him take charge and have his way with her.
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She strolled through the shop while he closed the front door. The click of the heavy deadbolts didn’t bother her at all, nor did the rasp of the canvas shade he lowered over the front window. The shop went momentarily dark then a dim light flared behind her. She turned to see he’d lit a candle. Back by his chair, another small lamp burned, a low-wattage bulb under a dark green shade. She wondered how he’d have enough light to work by, then remembered it really wasn’t his work she’d come for. “Shall we begin?” he asked. Her body answered him, muscles going tight, back arching just a bit. They’d already begun as far as Makena was concerned. “What would you like me to do?” He pulled the curtain around the alcove and took her purse from her. “I’d like to draw something on your back tonight. Temporary of course, but something intricate…intimate. Is that all right?” She nodded. Her throat was dry as bone. “I’m going to get a straight-backed chair from the office. It’s not what I usually use when working on the back, but it suits the mood tonight. Will you get undressed for me?” “Why don’t you…?” She wanted him to do it, needed him to touch her. “Of course. I’ll be right back.” Makena waited, her breath coming in shallow gasps. Her body tingled and already her clothes felt tight and restrictive. When he came back, the scrape of chair legs against the linoleum floor made her jump. She was so ready, so hot for him. How would she survive hours of foreplay while he painted her? She bowed her head when he came up behind her and snaked an arm around her waist. His muscles felt like steel cables, and the heat of his touch through the thin, stretchy material of her shirt felt like a brand. She sagged back against him. “Don’t go limp on me now, Makena. I need you taut for me.”
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“Oh…” She tried to straighten her spine, which resulted in her ass rubbing against his groin. She smiled as the hard ridge of his erection pressed into her flesh. He wouldn’t last long, either. They could play for a bit, but he’d give in soon enough and take her. His lips brushed the sensitive skin at the nape of her neck and she gasped. “You look fantastic. I almost hate to make you take this outfit off. It’s hot, but I’ll need you mostly naked—or all, if you prefer.” “All. Will you take off your shirt too?” “If you want me to. But you first.” He snaked his hands down into the waistband of her skirt and opened the front button. Next he slid the narrow zipper down and peeled the garment open. Makena shivered. She leaned her back against him and put her head on his shoulder. “Mmm.” He pressed his lips against her ear and her whole body seemed to flex. “That’s it. Give in to it.” He didn’t need to tell her. She’d already given in to the sensuous glide of his hands as he drew the skirt over her hips and let it drop to the floor. She kicked it aside and spread her legs while he lifted the hem of her shirt. “Good Lord, Makena, you’re going to make me lose control tonight.”
Darq tried to steel himself against the rising tide of desire, but the sight of the crisp white thong Makena wore tonight instead of panties nearly did him in. The scrap of fabric covered a miniscule vee at the top of her beautifully round ass then disappeared into the deep valley between her cheeks. Thin, thin straps girded her hips and when he peered over her shoulder, he could just make out the perfect little triangle that covered her most intimate place in the front. He needed to leave it on, a final barrier against his lust, but good Lord, how delicious it would be to have her completely naked while he worked on her. 57
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He forced himself to forget about the thong for a moment. Instead he brought his hands up to cup her breasts. Beneath her shirt, her nipples peaked at his touch. The hard tips jutted against his palms through the fabric and the tight satin cups of her bra. It was the push-up kind that drew her breasts into an enticing décolletage. With exaggerated care, he pulled on the laces that tied her shirt in front and spread the neckline open wide. She moaned and his cock responded to the deep, satisfied sound with an involuntary surge. Darq took a deep breath before pulling the shirt over her head and tossing it to the floor. Makena stood completely still while he stepped back to admire his canvas. In nothing but her bra and thong, she looked utterly sexual, wanton and wild. He added to that wildness by pulling the lace holder from her hair and freeing the golden waves to dance around her shoulders. For the sake of the work, he should have left her hair up in the ponytail, but he had to see it loose and flowing, see the faint goose bumps that rose when the silky curtain of it tickled the back of her neck. “Lean forward.” He pressed his palm to her back, between her shoulder blades and pictured the image he intended to draw. He planned to give her wings tonight, something that would help her break free of all her inhibitions and begin to understand his world. When she obeyed his subtle movement and verbal command, he unclasped her bra and let it drop. That left nothing but her sandals and her thong. Could he stand for her to be completely bare before him? Would it fire his muse, or just make his hands shake with need? Why not live dangerously? He’d be inside her before the night ended, why leave any barriers in place? “Take it off.” Darq waited a moment, sensing Makena’s reticence to perform the act herself, but this time, he wanted just to watch. She slid her fingers into the straps of the thong and lowered the elastic over her hips. When she bent forward to remove the otherwise useless strip of cloth, he caught 58
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an enticing glimpse of her pussy, pink and full. He had only to ask and she’d do anything for him, but he needed to do something for her first. “That’s it. Now step back. I want you to sit down and straddle the chair. Lean your arms on the back, here.” He placed a towel over the back rungs of the chair to cushion her arms. She stepped over the seat and lowered herself, spreading her legs wide to accommodate the rungs and scooted her perfect ass toward the front of the seat so that she could stretch out her back when she leaned forward. Magnificent. He wanted to worship her, her sensual beauty and her perfect trust in him. “Now tell me how this feels.”
Makena filled her lungs with the heady scent of Darq’s cologne, the sweet cinnamon aroma of the candle burning somewhere behind her and the familiar musk of her own arousal. With her legs spread and her hips arched forward, she was completely open. Cool air teased her clit and her thighs had begun to tremble. “I feel…bad. Wicked, like we’re doing something forbidden. I love it.” “Good. Relax into it now. You can rest your chin on your arms and don’t forget to breathe.” Somewhere behind her, Darq moved. The rasp of fabric told her he was removing his shirt, and a second later she felt the heat of his body against her naked back. “There now. I’m ready to begin when you are.” She only nodded, not trusting herself to speak. The only words that came to mind were, Fuck me, now. She rolled her hips, hoping the movement would send the message. He only chuckled and she heard the faint clack of his equipment, the airbrush and paint canisters moving on the rolling tray he’d set up in the alcove. “This image will have color. I think lavenders and blues for you. It’s going to cover your upper back from the nape of your neck to the middle vertebrae here.” His fingers found a spot in the center of her spine and pressed. The contact made Makena gasp. His
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fingers were so hot, yet completely gentle. What would they feel like thrust inside her, spreading her walls and delving into her core? “If you need a break, or some water, just tell me. This will take a while.” “I don’t know how long I can last.” Her voice shook. She’d never wanted a man so much. How could he not want to take her right now? “You’ll be fine. Breathe deep. When I’m finished, I’ll take you higher. I promise.” “Please.” “Shh. Close your eyes and breathe.” Once again, Makena obeyed. She let her mind go still and waited for the first tickle of the aerosolized pigment on her skin. When it came, she clenched as if Darq himself had touched her. Her clit pulsed, needy and insistent. How long was he going to torture her like this? “How does it feel?” he asked after a few moments of steady passes of the brush along her back. Her skin tingled and her mind seemed to go blank. “It feels like you’re stroking my skin.” “Soon it will feel like I’m inside you.” “Oh…” “Just breathe.”
Darq worked with singular determination. The image that until now had existed only in his mind’s eye took shape on the perfect, pale skin of Makena’s back. Graceful wings, dipped in shades of azure, indigo and violet stretched over her skin, protecting her and lifting her above the average world. Each feather he added with a pass of the brush made her lighter and stronger. Soon she’d feel like she could fly. When her shallow breathing deepened and became regular, he knew she’d finally relaxed. Though he preferred her a little on the edge, he wanted her to enjoy the
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experience completely. He had no doubt that he could bring her to the edge of release with very little effort, but not until his work was done. When he finally drew back to admire his finished canvas, his fingers had begun to ache and his eyes to sting. The minor discomforts were well worth it, though. He’d accomplished what he’d set out to do and now he’d earned his reward for holding himself back this long. “Makena.” The sound of her name seemed to startle her from the peaceful place she’d gone to. She stirred and the muscles of her back rippled, bringing the image to life. “I’m finished.” Her head came up and she rolled her shoulders. “Can I see?” “Not yet. It needs a few minutes to dry completely.” Darq bent his head and blew a cool stream of air over her skin, not because it made much difference in the drying of the ink, but because he loved to see her body react to everything he did to her. She arched and sighed. “I’m so hot…” “You’ve been a perfect canvas. Now it’s time for something else.” His fingers feasted on her, running along her outer thighs. He dipped low, caressing her calves then grabbed her hips and helped her slide to the edge of the chair. “That’s it. Right where I want you.” “What are you going to do now?” “Exactly what you want me to.” He slid his fingers over her hips, around her waist and down. She gasped when he found her clit, still erect and warm. She hissed a word that sounded like yes, but had no form. He laughed in her ear. “Let me do this for you.” She nodded and moaned low in her throat when he drew circles around her clit with his thumb, exerting gentle pressure at first above and then below the nub of flesh. She writhed, tried to press herself against him but he held back. One sensation at a time.
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While he worked her with one hand, he slid two fingers of his other hand along her lower lips, parting them. She was so wet already, it was easy for him to slip inside her, tentatively at first. He felt her body tense as he pressed deeper. She closed around him, sliding forward to take him in and pulling in a startled breath. “Darq…” “How does that feel?” “More…harder.” It was his turn to obey. She was tight, but so wet he had no trouble filling her with two fingers. He began a sultry rhythm, thrusting in fast just to hear her sharp intake of breath, then drawing out slowly. She rocked back and forth in time to his movements and her head lolled. Sweat beaded on her nape, just above the highest lines of the image, and began to roll down her spine. Darq smiled. “You’re trying too hard. You don’t have to work at it, do you?” He blew on the droplets of moisture and she shivered. The movement made her tighter and hotter around the intrusion of his fingers. “Faster, please …” Again, he obliged her, working her with both hands until she stiffened. She held on the precipice for a moment, her breath becoming a keening moan. Then she shattered for him. Her orgasm rocked her, and Darq rode the wave with her, reveling in the convulsing of her hot flesh around his fingers, the tautness of her thigh muscles as she braced against the inner turmoil. “You come beautifully, so sensuous and sweet.” She made a sound that might have been acknowledgment and her head dropped forward. Deep within her, the tremors went on and on and he coaxed her with a few quick thrusts timed to match her inner spasms. Before long, he felt her tense again. Her slick pussy tightened around his fingers and she drew in a startled gasp before she went
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over the edge again. This time a low moan escaped her, and her body trembled like a leaf in the wind. Still he held, reveling in every swift pulse. When her breathing slowed, finally, Darq withdrew his fingers from her body. She arched with it, letting out a final gasp and she shuddered. “That was…that was—” “Only the beginning.” He branded the untouched skin below her hairline with a gentle kiss, tasting salt and sweet arousal. “I’ve been wanting to see that all night.” “Is that all you’ve wanted?” She looked over her shoulder at him. Her eyes were dilated pools of shimmering black surrounded by thin irises of golden brown. All the fiery green had drained away, leaving her with the look of a satisfied lioness. “Not nearly all. I’ve thought about this since last night. How I wanted you, where.” “Right here. Right now.” “You are wicked.” He stroked her cheek then ran one finger down her spine just to watch her shiver. “I could bend you over the stool, or the counter, or throw a blanket on the floor, though linoleum is cold and hard no matter what you put over it. I could press you up against the wall or I could sit on the chair and you could straddle me.” “Yes. To all of it. I’ve never felt like this before. I want you, Darq. Anywhere is fine with me.” He considered for a moment. He’d denied himself the pleasure too long and his desire was reaching critical mass. It was time to give her what she wanted. “Stand up.” He stroked his hands down her back once, testing to see that the ink was finally dry. Her spine curved under his touch and she thrust her breasts forward to press against the terrycloth-covered rungs of the chair. When she lifted her ass from the seat, her legs wobbled and Darq caught her, one arm around her waist to steady her. “Are you all right?” “Mmm.” She swung one leg over the chair and leaned back against him. “Just sat too long in one place.”
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Lost in the sensual slide of her naked body against him, Darq only growled in her ear. She shivered and he cupped her breasts, squeezed, thumbing the hard points of her nipples. Next he followed her curves down until his fingers met above her navel. He eased her hips back against him and thrust his fingers into the tight curls of her mound. She gasped and surged back. “You’re ready for me, aren’t you?” Makena nodded. Her sleek body trembled deliciously. “Stand here. Wait for me.” Reluctantly, Darq broke contact. He stepped back, once again allowing himself a moment to admire his own artistry. The wings he’d painted on her seemed to rise and flutter with her shallow breaths. In a moment, he would have her flying. “Darq? In my purse…I have condoms.” Of course. Wise girl. Heath always kept a few around, but hers would probably be newer. “I’ll get one,” he said. “Don’t turn around until I tell you to.”
Makena’s body felt incredibly light and buoyant. She longed to look over her shoulder and watch him undress, but the anticipation of seeing him naked kept her own lust running at high peak. She trembled with need until he finally gave her leave to turn around and join him. He sat on the straight-backed chair she’d just vacated, naked, his legs wide, revealing an erection that made Makena’s mouth water. She’d been fantasizing about his size since that incredible dream last night and heaven knew he didn’t disappoint. As wet as she was, as hot and needy as she’d become just looking at him, she wasn’t worried about taking him on. She knew he’d fit her perfectly. He held up a condom packet. “Would you like to, or should I?” Licking her lips, she grabbed the packet and tore it open. Drawing on skills she’d thought long forgotten, she sheathed him and fantasized about a time when she
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wouldn’t need to—when she’d take him in whole and bare with no barriers between them. For now, though, she’d accept this limitation. She leveled her best huntress gaze at him and threw one leg over his thigh. He looked up at her, reverent, and his fingers skimmed her curves, teasing and tantalizing as he settled her slowly, inch by glorious inch, over his cock. Makena rotated her hips forward, then back, easing herself down. She braced her hands on his sweat-slick shoulders and threw her head back when he helped her progress along. She gasped at the fullness. With him buried to the hilt, she felt completely possessed by him, sinfully sexual. She leaned into him and began to move while he dug his demanding fingers into her flesh, molding her, guiding her up and down his shaft. “That’s it…move with me, Makena. Take me in.” His whispers of encouragement became growls, groans of pleasure when Makena obeyed him. She picked up her pace, arching for that spot within her that craved the relentless thrust. The wave crested too quickly—how could she be so close so fast after having just come twice in his hands? When he tightened his grip on her waist and held her, trapping her to him, stilling her frantic movements, she felt it. The surge, the urgent pulse. He drew his hands up and pulled her forward, gathering her breasts to his mouth and suckling on the soft flesh as his thighs grew rigid beneath her ass. “My God, Makena…” His ragged exhalation came a moment before the explosion. He shook, shuddered with it, and she followed him into oblivion, keening his name while her body milked every ounce of pleasure from his.
When their shared tremors finally stopped, they seem to hang suspended for a moment, weak with their mutual release.
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Darq was the first to stir. Lifting his head, he looked into her eyes and his heart clenched around the notion that even this drenching release wasn’t enough. He needed more of her. With his help, she eased off him, shaky and panting, her body slick and flushed. She was beautiful, and now, in the light of his intense scrutiny, shy. “What are you staring at?” She gave him a demure look. Was this the lusty goddess who’d ridden him to orgasm, hot and hard a moment ago? “I’m considering how I’ll have you next.” She smirked. “Any way you want me.” “Then let’s get dressed and go back to your place. I want to hold you and hear that beautiful sound you make when you come.” A sexy blush crept over Makena’s exposed skin and Darq laughed. “Don’t be selfconscious about it. That was the best part, hearing your release.” “All right. If that’s the only way I’m going to get you.” “Good.” He offered his hand and helped her climb off the chair. Her legs shook a little and he wrapped his arms around her to steady her. “Are you all right? Do you need to sit down?” “No. I’m good. Just hand me my clothes.” “All but your thong. I’m keeping that.” She turned a gorgeous shade of pink at his confession. “You want me to go home without my underwear?” Darq gave her look as he disposed of the condom in the small trash can next to the chair. While he appreciated thongs as much as the next man, he’d never quite understood their purpose. “That wisp of a thing can’t really be considered underwear. I’ve seen thicker dental floss.” “Are you complaining?”
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“Absolutely not. But if you have a large collection of thongs, you’d best be aware, I might start making them mine, one at a time.” “I’ll pick up a couple dozen before the weekend is over.” “Vixen.” He handed over her skirt and t-shirt, thought twice about the bra. “Leave this here too,” he said before tossing the satin underwire aside. “I’m not the type of woman to leave my underwear all over town, you know, Mr. Stone.” He cocked a finger under her chin and brought his lips to hers in a light, teasing kiss that promised more. “You are now, Ms. Brady. You are now.”
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Chapter Five The ride across town to Makena’s apartment was sweet torture. She sat close to Darq in the cab, squeezing her thighs together to quell their trembling and the naughty feeling of complete freedom at being without her underwear. One of his hands rested on her knee, possessively stroking the naked flesh there in a slow, deliberate manner that drove her insane. If they’d been in a limo with a privacy screen and a little more room, she might have hiked up her skirt and straddled him again right there. She needed it that badly. To calm her nervousness, she cracked her passenger-side window to allow a cool, damp stream of night air to blow across her face. With the change of temperature, her nipples peaked beneath her shirt and Darq’s feral gaze dropped to her cleavage. With an eye on the driver, who seemed well enough intent on the road, Darq drew his hand up from her knee and cupped her breast. He circled her hard nipple with his thumb and Makena bit back a moan. “Don’t,” she breathed the word, barely a whisper. “Not here.” His grin was wicked and he leaned to whisper in her ear. “I could do you again before we got to your place. Just spread your legs for me and I’ll—” She swallowed another moan. “No. Please, you’re making me crazy.” “I’m making you hot.” “God, that too. Stop now.” She swatted his hand away playfully. “Show some decorum, for heaven’s sake.” He raised a brow. “Look who’s talking about decorum.” His remark trailed off and he leaned forward to speak to the driver. “Right here. Thank you.” The cab cut to the curb and Darq paid the man while Makena climbed out onto the sidewalk. The light breeze traveled up under her skirt, cooling the heat and evaporating 68
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the moisture that had pooled in her naked pussy. She shivered. God, she’d never felt this alive before. Her heart thundered in her own ears when Darq joined her, slipped an arm around her waist and led her inside her building. “You’re shaking,” he noted when they entered the elevator. “Second floor,” she said, fishing her keys out of her purse. “I feel like I’m going to take off. I could float. Whatever you’ve done to me, it feels wonderful.” Darq closed in on her, pressing her against the elevator wall as the lift rose. “I haven’t begun to do things to you.” He lowered his lips to her skin just above the nowloose neckline of her shirt and gently sucked the flesh into his mouth. Makena’s knees wobbled and she clung to him for support while he suckled. “I don’t know what it is, but from the moment you walked into the shop…no, before that…I saw you on the corner, contemplating coming inside and couldn’t take my eyes off you. I wanted you then.” One of his hands traveled up under her skirt, cupped her ass and squeezed. Her hips surged forward against him, against the erection he’d been battling since they’d stepped into the cab. “This doesn’t usually…I mean, I’m not usually—” “I know. I can feel it. You don’t usually let a man fuck you on the second date.” “God, no.” She threw her head back and let him explore her throat with his lips. His fingers inched between her cheeks, parting her. “I’m a good girl.” A laugh escaped with that statement. She’d certainly never felt this good before. “Well, all that’s over now. I’ve corrupted you. I’ve made you bad.” “And I think I love it.” The elevator stopped and the door opened. One of Makena’s neighbors stood in the corridor. The woman from two doors down was on the high end of middle age. She was heavyset with short, graying hair and a small, prim mouth that seemed perpetually set in a disapproving pucker.
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“Good evening, ma’am,” Darq favored her with a winning smile, though his hand never moved from beneath Makena’s skirt. The blood nearly drained out of her body at the look in the woman’s eyes. “Hello, Mrs…” “Hello.” The woman, Mrs. Markham—Makena finally found the name in her addled brain—averted her eyes immediately. She sidled past them and stepped to the back of the elevator. With her arms crossed over her chest, she studied the carpeting while Makena and Darq eased out of the elevator and into the corridor. When the doors closed, Makena sagged. “Oh my God. I can’t believe she saw that.” “I’m sure she can’t either.” He smirked and Makena once again swatted his hands. “You need to behave.” “Why? There’s no one else around.” He linked his fingers with hers and pulled her down the hall. “Which is your door?” “Right here.” Makena took a breath before inserting her key into the lock. Would they make it to the bedroom? she wondered. Darq followed her inside but gave her a moment to toss her key and her purse on the hall table and turn on a light. Then she faced him, her inner tremors building in anticipation. “This is it. This is my place.” “Let’s put off the tour for later.” Makena had no objection to that. As Darq surged forward and caught her in his arms, she raised her hands to cup his face and pull him into a deep kiss. He tasted warm and sweet, a hint of cinnamon and citrus like that new mouthwash. His heat enveloped her and she sank into the sensation as his tongue swept into her mouth.
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She lost herself in him, his hands on her breasts, her ass, his teeth scraping and biting her lower lip as if he meant to devour her. She welcomed it, embraced it and opened to him.
Darq was lost the moment Makena kissed him. Something in him that had lain dormant for too long ignited. Reluctantly he broke the kiss and dropped down on one knee before her. He unfastened her skirt and dragged it down to the floor. She stepped out of it and arched back. The movement raised the hem of her shirt, revealing her belly. He placed his hands over her womb, thumbs down to part the moist, pink folds that peeked out of the dark triangle of curls between her legs. One taste, swift and sure, he darted his tongue against her clit. She keened for him, braced her hands on his shoulders and pushed her hips forward. He would have played with her for a while—splayed her there with his thumbs and made her come against his mouth, but he couldn’t wait any longer for his own release. He needed to be inside her again, above her, commanding her body, as he’d been before in his mind. He rose, slowly, letting his hands climb her body, over her outer thighs, the gentle curve of her hips and up to her breasts beneath her shirt. He lifted the garment off, setting her free again and together, locked in another desperate kiss, they stumbled into her bedroom. A dim light burned next to the bed, just enough to guide them to the rumpled duvet. Makena sat and pulled herself backward onto the bed, her eyes on Darq, her lips parted in invitation. Her creamy skin was a contrast to the chocolate tones of the bedcover and he took a moment to admire the scene. Like an alabaster goddess, she lay ready for him, arms outstretched. He flicked his gaze quickly around the room to get his bearings and know his surroundings while he unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged out of it. He’d been in a woman’s bedroom before—quite a few—and never felt quite this much at home. Rather 71
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than frilly and feminine, she’d chosen rich tones of brown and gold accented here and there with black or crimson. The furniture was Asian lacquer, the carpet gold and the bed large enough to accommodate the two of them in luxury. “I like this,” he said, giving her a moment to catch her breath. She writhed, eager and demanding, as he stripped. “It looks like a room I would design for myself.” “I like things that are austere and functional,” she offered, the sudden businesslike tone of her voice belaying her position. “We can talk about decorating tips later. Right now I need you to fuck me again.” “As you wish, Ms. Brady.”
Makena arched into Darq, wrapping her arms around his broad back as he lowered himself over her. Naked, he was a God. All tawny Mediterranean skin adorned with his magnificent dragon image and dark hair. His erection jutted high, smooth skin, darker than his body, engorged and full and ready. He slipped another condom on with little fanfare and parted her thighs with one hand. With another deep kiss, their mouths joined while their bodies found the proper rhythm. She slid her legs up around his thighs, and crossed her ankles over the tight mounds of his ass, and on her next inhalation, he was in her. “Oh, Darq…” One full thrust and they were one, no teasing, no tentative inching upward. He claimed her with a single stroke and settled his weight into the cradle of her hips. “I need you, Makena. I need you to come around me.” He began to move then, in and out, giving her a brief second at the apex of each thrust to become accustomed to his length and width. The stretching of her inner walls was exquisite—just painful enough to be wickedly pleasurable. She sighed on each withdrawal and anchored her hands on his hips to pull him back in. He held most of his weight off her with one hand while the other explored her body, caressing her breasts, pinching a nipple, teasing her taut abdomen with the scrape 72
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of his nails. She bucked under him, caught between conflicting sensations—the gentle strokes of his fingers and the commanding thrust of his cock. “Look at me.” His command brought her focus back to earth from where she’d been floating. She met his gaze and her lips parted on a gasp as her body tightened. He rose above her, the clean lines of his tattoo undulating as his muscles flexed with each forward surge. For a brief, dizzying moment, Makena felt as though the huge dragon that hugged his torso was part of their union, a ménage of human and mythical beast. The creature’s eyes seemed to watch her, its outstretched wing caressing her body with as much tenderness and desire as Darq himself. The strange thought at first frightened her, then heightened her excitement. It was as if Darq were two entities, the winged beast and the man, and she belonged to both of them equally. She relished the dual claiming. In her embrace, he quickened, his already-hard muscles stiffening with the onset of his own release. Makena felt hers nearing. Deep inside where their bodies connected, the spark of electrical fire began to grow. She tightened on it, willing it to come faster, harder. “I want to hear you,” Darq said, his voice tight. “Let me hear you come.” She could do nothing but obey. Her body braced for it and the wave hit. She clutched him and her whispers of contentment became the keening of utter completion as he released into her. She felt like she was inside him, with him wrapped around her, in her, his lips against her throat and his own moan of satisfaction vibrating her trembling body. They held for an eternity, it seemed, suspended in time, alone in the universe. Makena was the first to breathe, to speak, but her voice betrayed her—a weak rasp. She had no strength left and wanted for nothing. “I’ve never…not like that.” Darq shifted to meet her gaze. He brushed another quick kiss over her swollen lips and surged his body forward in a final thrust that left her gasping. “That was only the beginning.” 73
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Makena blinked, sleepy now and sated. After tossing the used condom in her bedside trash can, Darq rolled to the side, and pulled her body into the crook of his arm. “What comes next?” He smiled indulgently and ran one hand down her body from the hollow at the base of her throat to the hot, throbbing place between her legs. She drew up against his touch, her nerve endings begging for rest. “You’re not quite ready for what comes next. Sleep now, for a while and when you wake up I’ll show you things you haven’t even imagined.” She might have protested but her eyes insisted on closing. She fought it because she didn’t want to leave him now that she had him right where she wanted him. After a few languid blinks and a yawn, she lost the battle and sank into oblivion. In her dreams, dragons battled and she flew among them on silver wings, naked and free.
***** “Darq?” Still partially asleep, Makena rolled over, searching for him. The wide bed was empty, but still warm from where his body had lain. She smiled to herself and stretched, enjoying the mild soreness of her muscles, the internal pull that clenched her pussy at the thought of him. “Mmm.” She’d need him again. The promise of sex, wild and dirty, lingered in her mind. What would he do to her now? What would make it different, like he’d said? She couldn’t wait to find out. After another full body stretch, she climbed out of bed. According to the clock it was just after six but still so dark. That meant a dreary Sunday in the city, nothing much to do but laze around in bed. Oh, and look at her new body art. She’d forgotten all about the image he’d painted on her back. She padded over to her bureau and grabbed a hand mirror. With her back to the bureau she angled the smaller mirror so she could see the reflection of her reflection. Indigo-silver wings spread across her back, just like in her dream. The tips of
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outstretched feathers, tinged in shades of lavender and mauve, touched the bottom of her rib cage and tapered up to her shoulders. Beautiful and so sexy. She’d need a backless dress to show them off. Good Lord, what if one of her coworkers happened to see her? A backless dress she’d wear only for Darq. That thought brought her back to wondering where he’d gotten to. She figured he’d be capable of finding the bathroom on his own. She hoped he’d gone to take a shower and indulged in the naughty image of him wet and soapy. Determined to collect on his promise wherever she happened to find him, she strolled out of the bedroom. When a complete circuit of her apartment turned up nothing, she began to think she’d lost her mind. He hadn’t been a dream. She still felt him inside her, smelled his cologne on her skin and on her sheets. His clothes were gone, naturally, and her door was locked— both deadbolt and the chain—which puzzled her. Had he climbed out a window? Frustrated more than angry, she scooped up her phone and dialed his number. She didn’t want to be one of those women who became obsessive after sex, demanding a full accounting of their partner’s time every minute of the day, but a note would have been nice. A kiss goodbye even. After ten rings she hung up and perched on the arm of her sofa. Logic told her to get over him immediately. There needn’t be any more to it than wham, bam, thank you, ma’am. After all, she’d known him for just a few days. The fact that she’d never experienced sex like that before—well, she had limited experience. Some men just knew what they were doing. Some men didn’t. Darq certainly knew. She wondered briefly if she might have disappointed him. Had he been expecting more? She would have gone down on him if he’d asked, would have done plenty of things in fact. He’d certainly seemed satisfied. She could disintegrate into a quivering mass of abandonment, or she could deal with it. He’d left. It didn’t mean he’d skipped town. Maybe he just had to go to work, or
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maybe he’d gone out for coffee, or flowers like the men in romance novels usually did. That didn’t explain the chain lock. Nothing could explain that.
***** Darq paced the length of the shop’s front room, long, determined strides carrying him from the counter to the curtained alcove where he found Makena’s thong and her bra. Remembrance of her clenched his belly and stiffened his cock. How had he managed to slide out of her bed this morning? She’d been angelic and so peaceful, curled around him, naked, her skin warm from his touch. He’d felt like a thief, stealing away while it was still dark, thinking that if he left her he might shake off the tenuous connection, the unbearable need. He’d come to the shop with plans to create a design for her, something unique and perfect that would bind her to him and give her the strength she craved. He’d caught himself in the middle of a charcoal sketch and put his work aside. Heath would know instantly and there would be repercussions. It wasn’t safe for them to find mates, to join permanently with anyone, yet after only two days, he could think of nothing but possessing Makena, making her fully his. He had to stop now, before he lost perspective. Maybe it was already too late. By the time the sun began to peek through the early morning clouds, and the lazy predawn traffic had morphed into the midmorning bustle outside, he’d decided that she wasn’t ready. Spending the night in her arms, wrapped in her scent, had given him the illusion of love, but it could be no more substantial than the guardian dragon inked on her lovely thigh. It would fade, and he had to let it. He put his sketches aside in a drawer in the shop’s small office and went about the rest of his work for the day, conscious of his determination to block Makena from his mind for a while. 76
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When Heath arrived, his blue eyes pierced Darq’s resolve almost instantly, though. There was no hiding his intent. “You want her, don’t you?” It was the first thing his partner said, after hello. Darq shrugged off the question with a calculated smirk. “I’ve had her.” The thoughts running through his mind at that moment made him feel like an adolescent bragging about a conquest. Male pride battled with sudden shame. Makena was not merely a brief repository for his natural lust. Heath leaned on the edge of the counter in a casual stance, his eyes narrow and his head tilted back. “And you’ll have her again, I predict.” “No.” Darq turned his back, busied himself with arranging supplies that were already well organized. “You were right. Now isn’t the time for anything permanent.” “No, it’s not. You know as well as I do, we’re only passing through this world on our way to the next. Our time here is short and to become entangled with someone now—” “It seems to me you’ve entangled quite a bit, and I’ve never cautioned you.” “Do you see any of the women I’ve been with standing around here? Have you met any of them more than once?” “Makena isn’t here either, and you’ve never met her.” “No, but I have a feeling I’m about to.” Darq swung around at Heath’s knowing tone. His gaze tracked to the door, eager for her to be there and apprehensive as well. “She’ll be here,” Heath said. “That was her underwear tucked in the drawer in back, am I right?” “So?” Heath straightened. “I have no problem with you fucking someone for your own enjoyment. It’s not something I could ever go very long without, as you well know. I’ve
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enjoyed my share of women in every world we’ve seen, but I’ve never considered dragging one along with us for the ride.” “I’m not.” “But you are.” And Heath was right. Darq had planned it all, while lying in Makena’s bed, her arm draped over his chest, her heart beating steadily against his ribs. He’d imagined the next world on their journey and how Makena would fit into their plan. He hadn’t thought further than waking up with her in his arms each day, or seeing her waiting for him in whatever darkened bedroom they would claim as their own. He hadn’t considered what fate might befall them if the Gemii assassins found then, the last surviving members of their family’s heretic crèche and he hadn’t considered that when their exile finally ended he might be required to take a mate from his own world, his own species in order to repopulate the next royal crèche. “Heath, I understand my duties, my place in the scheme of things. It doesn’t mean I can’t fantasize now and then about something better.” Heath pursed his lips and studied Darq with the seasoned look of an elder, though barely a decade separated them. “As long as fantasy is all it is.” “That’s all. Just sex.” “I think we both know differently.”
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Chapter Six Makena honestly hadn’t planned on going to SkIntense on Sunday afternoon. She’d convinced herself the shop probably wasn’t open anyway and exercised her modernwoman muscles by not calling Darq’s cell phone all day to try to find out why he’d disappeared before dawn. She was a big girl after all and as wonderful as the night had been, she harbored no illusions that she’d found Mr. Right. Mr. Right Now was certainly more than she would have bargained for anyway. She wasn’t going to be greedy. Nevertheless, by two p.m., after lunch at her favorite café with her friend Paulina from work followed by a brisk walk through the park, she found herself climbing out of a cab on the corner of Fourteenth. What now? Do I just casually stroll inside and say hello? It seemed so trite, so girly. What if she went in and asked for the tattoo she’d originally come for? She thought of the dragon and wondered just how painful it would be to make the image permanent. She still liked the Chinese symbol she’d looked at on Friday. How would that look on the small of her back? Would Darq think she was needy and insecure if she showed up unannounced? Her thoughts swirled around while she lingered on the corner. Would this be her existence now? Standing outside his shop every day talking herself into going in? Always on the verge of walking away, considering him nothing more than a moment of weakness on her part? Hell. I want him. Any way I can get him. I’m going in and getting what I want. She breezed through the door with a wide smile and mischief in her eyes. The man standing behind the counter greeted her with a familiar look, as if he’d been expecting her. She recognized him instantly from the pictures on the website as Darq’s partner. 79
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With the same height and overall build as Darq they might have been brothers except for their coloring. She wondered if he was from some faraway island as well, and what had put that oddly self-satisfied smile on his handsome face. “He’s in the back. Go right in.” “How do you know I’m looking for Darq?” She narrowed her gaze on him and he leaned forward, resting bare forearms on the glass counter. Red serpents twined from his wrists to his elbows, sinuous tangles of forked tails and spiraling scaled bodies. The creatures’ heads rested on the backs of his hands. “He told me he met a stunning hazel-eyed blonde on Friday. I’d argue that your eyes appear pure green to me right now, but the rest of his description was dead-on.” Makena blushed. Another charmer. Wherever these two were from, the women must be very happy there. “Thank you. You must be Mr. Gyland. I recognized you from your website.” “Call me Heath. If I may ask, did you research SkIntense before or after you came in for the first time? It’s a marketing question, I’m really not trying to be nosy.” “After.” The answer made her feel somewhat naughty. She’d been snooping on Darq, otherwise she would never have known about the site. “That’s all right. Mind if I ask what brought you here, that day I mean? There are hundreds of body art shops in the city.” Makena shrugged. “I guess that was it really. ‘Body art shop’ sounded a little more like a salon or something. I’ve passed this place a million times and just thought it seemed…like the right place.” He nodded and braced his fingertips on the counter. “I respect someone who follows their feelings. It’s not something most people trust themselves to do.” He studied her for a moment then gestured to the back. “He’ll be glad to see you.” Will he? Makena hated that she had to ask herself that. She gave his partner a nod and made her way to the back of the shop, passing the recliner and the curtained alcove.
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The sight of it made her nipples tighten and the fine hairs on her nape above the edges of her silvery wings begin to stand up. Her body remembered him, every glorious, rock-hard inch of him, and her sex went damp at the wicked thought of shoving Heath out onto the street and locking herself in alone with Darq. The door to what appeared to be a small office stood partly open. She heard the muffled clack of fingers on a keyboard as she peered around the door. Darq sat at a tiny desk, looking like a giant in the land of the Lilliputians. Hunched over a small laptop, his graceful hands flying, he looked studious and determined. Makena’s heart lurched and she caught her breath. The small sound drew his attention from his work. “I don’t want to interrupt you. You look very…intent.” He turned from his work which looked like store accounts and gave her a tentative smile. “I owe you an apology.” “Not at all. I didn’t expect you to move in. We had a wonderful night and I figured you’d have other responsibilities today.” “I left because I was afraid of what might happen if I stayed.” Makena felt a lump rising in her throat. Her heart jackhammered. “Afraid?” “I won’t be here much longer. Heath and I will be moving on, taking our business elsewhere. I don’t want to lead you on.” A sound escaped Makena’s lips that she hoped sounded more like a sharp laugh than a startled sob. “Lead me on? No. Of course not. I don’t expect anything.” What was all that talk about not wanting her to be a one-night stand? Had she imagined that? “Would you like to go somewhere and talk? I want you to understand.” “There’s nothing to understand. We moved pretty fast this weekend. I appreciate that and if you want to slow down, or stop, or whatever, I’m fine with that. I didn’t come here today to check up on you or demand to know why you left this morning, or
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how you managed to lock my door from the inside. I came to get my tattoo. I know what I want and where I want it and I’d like you to do it for me. If you have time today.” He seemed startled by her request. Had he really thought to talk her out of a permanent image? “You’ve made your decision already?” “Yes. It’s what I wanted anyway. Will you do it?” Darq held her gaze for a full ten seconds and behind his golden eyes she thought she saw regret. Whatever his plans had originally been for the two of them, they’d changed now. He knew, as she did, that getting what she came for probably meant she’d never come back. Makena almost wanted to apologize. She still wanted him, around her, inside her, but if it wasn’t meant to be, she could handle that. “I’ll do anything you want me to, but not tonight. Can you come back tomorrow, after work? I’d like to take you out to dinner again and talk. I want you to know me, Makena. I want you to understand who and what I am. Then, if you want a permanent tattoo, I’ll do it for you. Anything you ask. Just give me time to work out where this is going.” Makena held her breath for a second. Hadn’t he just said this wasn’t going anywhere? He was leaving, packing up, skipping town. “Darq, I don’t want to play games. I didn’t come in here Friday expecting to be seduced. Whatever we have, or had, I enjoyed every minute of it and if you want to continue, that’s fine with me but I’m not looking for forever.” Darq rose. The small chair he’d been sitting on—the same one Makena had straddled the night before—scraped loudly. “The problem is, Makena, I am.” He put his hands on her shoulders and the touch electrified her. Every sensuous moment she’d spent in his arms, under his hands, collided in her thoughts. Her belly clenched and coiled like the serpents inked on Heath’s arms. “You’re confusing me, Darq. I wish you’d just tell me what you want.” 82
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“What I want and what I can have are two different things.” “I’m sure it doesn’t have to be that way.” “It does.” “Look, if you’re married or—” “No, of course not. I told you, it’s not in my nature to cheat on anyone. You’re the only one in my life right now. The only one I want.” She met his gaze. “Well, you’ve got me. For as long as…as long as there is.” His sharp look melted, liquefied into something feral and wanting. He brought his lips down to hers and drank from her, a longing kiss that reached into her heart. “Tomorrow night. Please.” Breathless and for the first time, unfulfilled, Makena stepped back. “All right. One night. If you can’t explain this all to me tomorrow, then…” She wanted to give him an ultimatum, threaten to walk out of his life, but it seemed petty and childish. It wasn’t what she wanted at all. “I will, Makena. And the choice will be up to you in the end. Whatever you decide to do.” She nodded, gathered her strength and turned. “Here, then?” “Meet me at Pantelas at seven.” “I’ll be there.” Makena strolled out of the shop, dismissing the baleful look Heath gave her as she passed the counter.
Darq held his ground, forcing himself not to follow Makena and pledge himself to her in front of Heath. It was enough that his partner would know what had transpired between them and what forbidden thoughts he’d entertained in just the few moments they’d been alone together.
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When he heard the shop door close, he walked out of the office, his eyes focused on the floor. As he suspected, Heath pounced. “All that gray and green around you—I can feel it.” “I’m allowed to be angry. I don’t want to give her up.” “But you have to.” Heath touched Darq’s shoulder, the strength of his own convictions passing through the brief contact. “You have to.” “I’m giving her the choice. If she chooses me, I’m staying here. I’m not moving on with you.” Heath stepped back, dropping his hand. His eyes flared with indignation. “That’s not your right. What about the Gemii?” “I’m making it my right. We’ve been here for years and the Gemii haven’t found us. We’re well hidden here. The population is too dense in this city for one of their Watchers to pick us out, even if they’ve traced us here. In a decade or so, you’ll be able to go back and take your place at court. You won’t need me there. With your appetite for females, you could fill a royal crèche all by yourself.” Heath shook his head. “What happened, Darq? You’ve always been determined to defeat the Gemii and go back home victorious. Why would you give that up now?” Darq tore himself away from Heath and paced the room. “Because I’ve finally found something worth more to me than revenge.” “And you’d give up all you could have back home to live here with her?” “In time I could take her with me.” “You can’t drag her away from all she knows based on what—a good fuck? You can get that on any number of worlds, Darq, and you have. Who is to say there won’t be a woman more enticing in the next world?” “I say. Makena is the last for me.” “You’ll regret it. I know you will.”
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“I’ll only regret it if she says no.”
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Chapter Seven Makena dragged herself through her normal schedule on Monday, wondering why she hadn’t taken the day off from work. The hours clicked away, second by second, and she watched the clock far too much. This wouldn’t do. If she was going to pine for Darq, she had to find a way to get him out of her system. A one-night stand—two, counting their highly charged encounter on Friday—shouldn’t affect her like this. Paulina slipped into Makena’s office late in the afternoon with a packaged cookie from the third-floor vending machine and a cold can of iced tea. “I thought you might need some sustenance. You’ve been a prisoner in here all day,” she said. Makena accepted the snack with a grin. “Thanks. I just didn’t feel like bracing the lunch rush today.” Paulina pulled up a seat, brushed her dark hair over one shoulder and folded her hands on Makena’s desk. “You seem different than you did yesterday. You look like you’ve lived a whole lifetime overnight.” “Ah, I just didn’t sleep well.” “Because of work or a guy?” “Nothing really.” Paulina appraised Makena with a knowing look. “A guy then. Let me guess. On the outside he’s perfect, right? But you have no idea what’s on the inside.” Makena faked a laugh. “I didn’t know you had a PhD in relationship psychology.” “Like I said, I’ve been there. I’ve seen your look in my own mirror more than once.” “And what did you do about it?” Makena leaned forward. She would have loved to vent all her frustrations to Paulina, but she’d spent so many years perfecting her
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privacy and keeping to herself, it seemed utterly alien to talk about her feelings for Darq. They were too deep, too intimate to give them voice, even to herself. “I ran in the other direction.” Paulina put her warm hands over Makena’s. “If a guy leaves you this out of sorts, he’s not the guy for you.” Makena nodded. “You’re probably right. He’s not the one for me.” Her voice sounded hollow and she imagined her smile was flat, but Paulina didn’t seem to notice the deception. She could tell Paulina whatever she wanted to, it wouldn’t change the fact that she’d already decided Darq Stone was the only man for her.
***** When five o’clock finally came, she headed home to change, still toying with the idea of canceling this final “date”. Why did she need to go to dinner with a man who was probably going to spin some fantastic yarn about why he couldn’t see her anymore, or worse, hit her with a dose of cold reality in the form of a girlfriend or live-in lover he’d conveniently forgotten to mention while they were getting it on? They’d had fun. Wonderful, erotic fun that she wouldn’t soon forget. In fact, Darq would probably be the man she measured all others against, literally and figuratively. In the future, she probably wouldn’t give the time of day to any man who didn’t make her panties wet with just the lightest brush of a touch on her skin, or the most daring whisper in her ear. She shivered at the memories as she dressed for the occasion. A soft peasant blouse with a low neckline would show off the wings he’d given her. They hadn’t yet begun to fade. She chose a long, multicolored skirt, shot through with gold threads and a rope belt with huge beaded tassels. Woven sandals with crisscross ties that climbed halfway up her calves completed the outfit along with delicate hoop earrings. She felt like a gypsy, wild and free, and she wanted Darq to see her that way. He’d brought her out, shown her the side of herself that she’d been hiding for too long.
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With her hair loose and flowing over her partially bare shoulders, she dashed down two flights of stairs, ignoring the elevators for the rush of adrenaline. The cab ride did little to calm her and when the car pulled up in front of Pantelas, she was breathing hard, as if she’d run there. Darq stood just beyond the pool of golden light that filtered through the restaurant’s front window. Half in shadow he looked imposingly tall and mysterious. His white shirt contrasted with his tanned skin and even in the half-light, the feathery tip of a dragon’s wing was visible at the edge of his collar. She wanted to run her hands inside his shirt and feast on his heat, feel the ripple of his toned muscles under her hands and against her body as she had the night before. When he looked up, her heart jumped. It wasn’t fair. She already felt too much for him. She slowed her steps, gave her body time to adjust to his nearness. “You look beautiful,” he said. His voice betrayed the hard look in his eyes. “I’m glad you came.” “Did you think I wouldn’t?” “I knew you’d consider it. You don’t want to be played and you’re afraid that’s what I’m doing.” “Exactly.” She leaned back a little, gave him an appraising look. “A man like you doesn’t have to work hard to get a woman interested, so I don’t think you have to be mysterious with me. Tell me what’s going on. I can handle it.” “Let’s go inside.” “Maybe we shouldn’t. Maybe we should take care of this right here. Tell me why you’re leaving, if you really are, and what you expect from this…connection we have. It doesn’t have to be complicated, Darq. I can handle sex for its own sake.” “This is more than that, Makena.”
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“If that’s true then make me believe it.” She held his gaze, daring him once again. After a moment, he slid his fingers down her arm and twined them with hers. A gentle tug and he was pulling her down the street away from Pantelas and back toward SkIntense. “I’m not sure you’re ready, but there isn’t much time. I’m going to show you everything.”
Darq sensed Makena’s apprehension in the set of her jaw and the way she moved, reluctant and stilted as if at any moment she might run. He should have let her, but he wasn’t going to give in to Heath’s paranoia. Another decade or two of running from the Gemii based on nothing more than his partner’s intuition would break him. Another night like the last, spent lying in his bed alone dreaming of Makena when he couldn’t have her, would destroy him. When they reached the shop, Makena stood back, arms crossed over her breasts. He could feel her nervous tremors and her skeptical stare while he unlocked the door. Once inside, she stood like a statue just within the threshold. “You’d better start talking.” He had to move her aside in order to close the door and lock it behind them. “It’s not about talking. It’s about showing you what I am and where I come from.” He didn’t wait for a reply but stalked across the floor to the back alcove. He pulled the privacy curtain partially shut but stood where she could see him. With his gaze locked on hers he began unbuttoning his shirt. When he shrugged it off, she finally gave in and moved toward him. “Sit down.” He left no room for argument. She obeyed, sinking into the recliner. He leaned over her for a moment, ran one finger over her exposed shoulder and into the tempting vee of her cleavage. She gasped. “Watch.”
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As if he had to tell her. Makena could do nothing but stare at Darq as the image on his body began to move. The dragon that embraced him stretched and shuddered as though the mythical beast were waking from a long sleep. It took solid form. Smoky wisps of pale lavender and deep indigo became shimmering scales so sharp they seemed to slice the air. Each movement of parchment-thin wings rasped, opalescent claws scraped the freshly mopped linoleum and a rumble grew beneath the creature’s breast, an inquisitive sound that accompanied a curious tilt of its enormous head. All breath left Makena’s body. Her head spun and her gaze darted from the beast to Darq who stood bare-chested now, his tanned skin naked and new. Without thought, she tensed, pushing herself back into the cushions of the chair when he stepped toward her. “You have nothing to fear, Makena. This is my guardian and he won’t harm you. He locked your door for me, to ensure your safety when I left. Everyone from my world has such a companion drawn onto our skin almost at birth. They grow with us and help us along our designated path.” Makena’s lips formed soundless words. What could she say to this? Fear pooled in her belly, coupled with a sinister excitement. What she’d felt the other night, the dual joining with both man and beast had been real. This creature had touched her, skimmed its claws over her flesh, brushed its gossamer wings over her body as she convulsed in pleasure while Darq fucked her. Her heart skipped and her sex clenched. Would he do it again? Had he brought her here to sacrifice her to the beast once more? “Who…?” Involuntarily her hand shot out. The beast bent its head to her, allowing a brief touch. The contact galvanized her. A rush of images assaulted her mind’s eye. Endless miles of blue-green forests laced with swirling mists, sharp mountain ranges bathed in the crimson light of a setting sun, and golden islands floating on a sea of indigo. The beauty of it stabbed at the place in her
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heart that longed for something more than life in a teeming city. “Are you? What are you?” “I’m a man. From another world. Heath and I come from Verakos. It’s a place…indescribable. A world that borders this one and many others, connected by bridges through time and space. We’re members of a ruling class, exiled at the moment for our own safety. A group of assassins, political terrorists called the Gemii, were sent to murder all the heirs to the royal court over two decades ago before anyone from our generation was old enough to rule. Heath and I were hidden for a time and then when we were old enough, we were sent away, using the bridges to hide on other worlds.” “I don’t understand. How can you come from somewhere else? Why are you telling me?” “Because I want you with me, Makena. I’d take you along to the next world in a heartbeat, but I realize how unfair that would be to you. I’d stay here and give up everything that awaits me back home when the Gemii have been destroyed, but I’ll have to contend with Heath. We’re the only two survivors of the crèche and it would be difficult for him to go back and assume rule of the court by himself.” “And when do you have to leave?” “Too soon.” “You want me to go with you?” Hope surged in her. Would she really leave everything behind for a man she’d just met? “I can’t ask that. I’m offering to stay.” The beast inclined its head to Makena again and absently, her fingers still trembling, she touched its snout. Again, an arc of power shot through her. Something took hold inside her and her body arched. This time instead of images, she felt emotions, physical sensations she’d never experienced before. Ages of tradition washed over her, the love of a family that spread across a world far larger than this one. She felt the icy cold of death, the sting of betrayal, the joy of renewal and finally, the pains of a woman giving birth to a long-awaited son. She cried out with it and curled upward 91
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against the tearing inside her. Darq eased her with a touch and the dragon faded from view. Like smoke again, it curled around his body and embraced him, returning to the form of an image on his skin. “I’m sorry for that. My guardian was trying to show you what I’m giving up. He would prefer to go home as well. But the decision is mine.” Makena leaned back, reluctant to break contact with Darq’s reassuring touch, but suddenly afraid of how much she needed him. She’d experienced his world as though she’d lived his life from the moment of his birth forward and back through time, through generations of a proud and noble line of warriors and scholars. She’d tasted the fear that drove his family to keep him hidden as a child and the desperation they’d felt sending two young boys away to shield them from the violence and political upheaval that threatened to destroy a long-peaceful society. Verakos—an alien world that existed beyond the scope of her understanding—felt like home to her now. After a deep, centering breath, she looked up into his amber eyes. Emotions that might not have been her own clashed in her. A longing for a place she’d never been, anxious nights spent worrying about a young man on a journey of too many years, friendships forged in battle, love that lasted until death and beyond. “Darq…I need to go home. I need time to think about this.” She hated herself for not instantly accepting everything he offered, but worse than letting him go would be to someday regret her decision to be with him. How would she decide? And when? Darq offered his hand and helped her up from the chair. Her legs wobbled but she caught herself. “I’ll be here, Makena. I won’t move on until I hear from you again.” She nodded. What if she threw herself into his arms and begged him to make love to her? Would that help her to choose one life over another, one world—or hundreds— over this one? No. She stepped back and turned, giving him a view of the wings he’d given her. Would she have had the courage to fly without him? “I’ll be back. I promise.” 92
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She left the shop before he could respond.
***** Darq remained in the shop long into the night, working on his sketches for Makena. One depicted her freedom symbol in flowing lines, shadowed with the subtle image of a guardian dragon. The other she might never see. He’d drawn a mate for the beast that wrapped around his body. In bold reds and oranges, the colors would complement her skin tones and enhance the voluptuous curves of her breasts and hips. If she wanted him, wanted the worlds he could offer her, she’d need to submit to the bonding with a beast of her own, and then she’d fully understand. He had no right to hope that she would choose Verakos or that she would want him at all, but he indulged in the fantasy that their future together would be long and bright. When Heath arrived just before dawn, he gave Darq a knowing look that was only partly sympathetic. “You look like hell,” he said, leaning against the counter in his usual pose. “But I can tell it’s not because she dumped you.” “She was afraid, but…hopeful, I think. She’s going to come back.” Heath nodded. “And you’ll wait for her, even if it takes forever for her to make her decision.” “Of course.” “I’m not sure I want to wait with you. I’m thinking of leaving tomorrow.” Darq met his partner’s gaze. “You’re doing that just to force my hand. You’ve been as comfortable here as I have been. There’s no reason to rush on into the unknown.” Heath looked away first, dropping his gaze to study the guardian serpents that twined around his wrists. “That’s exactly the reason. Rushing into the unknown is what we were bred for. It’s our duty at this point in our lives. We should never have stayed here so long. If my leaving so abruptly makes you realize your own foolishness, all the better. If not, then I’ll go alone. I won’t give up my legacy for a woman.” “If she were your woman you would.” 93
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Heath laughed. “I’ve had dozens of women. More than you know have begged to own me, to chain me to a hearth and give me sons and daughters to see me well into my dotage. And don’t think I haven’t considered it now and then, though I never burdened you with my daydreams. It only took a day or so beyond those momentary lapses to make me realize that what I had to lose by not returning home was far more valuable than any passing love affair. I hope you come to the same conclusion. But if you don’t, then I wish you well.” Darq ran a hand over his lower jaw and blinked the sting of exhaustion out of his eyes. When he looked up, Heath was gone.
***** Makena lay on her bed, dozing in the half-light of dawn. Since leaving SkIntense, the night had been long and desolate. Magnificent images of Verakos battled with memories of her life, her family. She’d never felt so torn. If she’d believed for a moment that what Darq offered was no more than a fantasy, she’d have dismissed her longing out of hand. Knowing everything he’d shown her was achingly real made her decision next to impossible. How can I love him? She’d asked that over and over again while she stroked the supple lines of her temporary guardian dragon. The image had begun to fade around the edges, but the magick with which it was imbued remained strong. The female wept. A silver tear hung from the corner of her one visible eye and Makena swore she felt the emptiness of grief that was not entirely her own. Logic told her to accept this for what it should have been, a wonderful but brief affair that would fuel her fantasies for years to come, but something Darq had told her that first day stuck with her and rattled in her mind. Did she want him to be the man she dreamed of later on in life when a normal relationship turned boring and mundane? Could she live with nothing but memories of him and the way he made her feel?
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She shut off the alarm clock before it rang at six and rolled onto her back. The ceiling hadn’t changed much through the night. She knew each nuance of the beige paint intimately by now. She stared until her vision blurred and she willed him to come to her. Half awake, she conjured his form, hovering above the bed. She reached for him and felt the weight of him stretch across her body. His warmth enveloped her. The gleaming eyes of his guardian dragon met hers and a featherlight touch on her thighs, her breasts and belly both soothed her and teased a wanton response. She arched into the phantom touch and spread her legs. Her lover slipped inside, fast and sure. The first thrust captured her and she moaned. Take me. Take me with you. Her body responded to every sensation, real or imagined. She rode a relentless wave, raw and sensual, and when she finally shattered she had the answer she’d been searching for. As the pulsing deep within her ebbed and the comforting pressure of his body lifted from her, she began to make her plans.
***** Across town, Darq breathed a shuddering sigh of release. Makena’s scent enveloped him and her heartbeat fluttered under his as if she were wrapped around him. He closed his eyes, steadied his breathing and smiled.
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Chapter Eight “How are you doing?” Darq leaned over and whispered the question in Makena’s ear. The faint brush of his skin against hers made her body tingle and her nipples harden to aching points. “I’m fine. Stop teasing me like that.” She turned her face toward the sound of his voice and smiled. Though he hadn’t requested it, she’d chosen to keep her eyes closed during the entire process. Hours and hours, lying naked at his mercy while he layered the sensuous curves of her own guardian dragon on her skin hadn’t yet begun to take a toll. She felt magnificent despite the faint but continuous scrape of the clustered needles over her skin. “I’m teasing you? You need to stop moaning every time I touch you.” The rich timbre of his laughter warmed her and she allowed herself a full body stretch. “I’ll never stop that.” She purred for him when he ran gentle fingers over the outer curve of one breast. He’d told her the dragon’s wing would cross her abdomen beneath her breast and its tail would wind down her thigh. She imagined she felt the weight of her new companion, its talons reaching up toward her shoulder, and legs resting on her buttocks, ready to spring to her defense whenever she needed it. Gently, Darq helped her turn and stretch out her left leg so he could put the final touches on the design. She rested her head on the cushion of his chair and steadied her breathing, timing it to his movements and the rhythmic buzz of his equipment. The sensation coursed through her hypersensitive skin when he began his work again and she concentrated on holding her body perfectly still for him. With each stroke she ascended higher and higher into the bright light of Verakos. The images stirred in her, as if they were her own memories rather than his. She gave herself over to it, to Darq, completely and let her mind soar.
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The first stirring came with a light touch on her chest, over her heart. She tensed and without thought, opened her eyes. “What was that?” “Your guardian. Do you feel her?” Makena pushed herself up gently with one arm, gave herself a moment to orient. She’d been lying down for hours, loose and boneless, while Darq worked on her. Again the faint stir of emotions that were not her own, a deeper longing, a joy beginning to awaken. She put her hand on the image of the wing that spread across her belly and felt a warmth she hadn’t expected. “She’s finished,” Makena said. She didn’t need to see the entire image, though she couldn’t wait. “She’s complete.” “And so are you.” He caught her gaze and held it. His eyes had gone coppery in the dim light by which he’d chosen to work. He put his equipment aside and held his hand out to Makena to help her up. “She’ll help protect you should the Gemii ever come here, and she’ll help guide you across the bridges should we ever have to leave this world.” Darq led her to the full-length mirror at the back of the shop and stood back while she admired his work. The fiery hues and subtle shading were exquisite—deep and bright but not garish. A spark of intelligence glinted in the golden eye that rested in the center of her chest just below the hollow of her throat. “She’s too new. She can’t leave you yet, but in time, she’ll be able to take form, like mine and they will…enjoy each other.” Makena stretched and the body of her guardian dragon flexed and elongated with each movement. “She’s beautiful.” “So are you.” Darq wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her body back against his. The heat of his naked chest and the insistent bulge of his erection beneath his tight jeans told Makena there were more sensations to experience before the night was over.
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She pressed back against him and dropped her head to his shoulder. He slid his hands down her hips and his fingers met at the juncture of her thighs. Every nerve in Makena’s body tensed at the glorious feel of Darq’s hard body behind her. Their reflections, entwined together in the mirror, made a sexy picture. The dark skin of his hands, one splayed over her stomach and the other burrowing lower to part her folds, contrasted with her lighter tone. Wrapped in the graceful, feral lines of her guardian, she looked exotic and untamed. Like Darq, she was more than one soul now and she was finally ready for everything he could show her. “I want you,” she said, easing against him. “Now. I want to watch in the mirror while you fuck me.” Darq’s look ignited her. He didn’t need to say anything. She spread her legs and held, her breath coming in anticipatory gasps while he opened his jeans with one hand. He freed his erection from his briefs but kept his pants on. Makena loved it. Loved the feel of denim on her ass as he positioned her hips against him. He tightened his grip on her waist and the possessive pressure made her gasp. She was his. She watched in the mirror as he positioned his cock between her legs and she bent forward to give him access. He was long enough to reach her pussy. The head of his cock rubbed against her slit, dipped into her waiting heat. She was wet already, had been since the moment she’d returned to the shop and put her body, her soul, in his hands. “Do it.” With a primitive sound he thrust forward and she rammed herself back at the same moment, taking him in deep. “God, Darq—you feel so good.” He didn’t speak, just held her gaze, his eyes blazing. With firm hands on her hips he guided her in a frenzied rhythm, harder and faster until she gasped with each thrust. Makena had never felt so sexual, so hot. The look in her own eyes mirrored his, raw, unbridled. Her breasts heaved and her legs shook as he pumped into her and when he hit her G-spot she almost buckled with the force of the orgasm that ripped 98
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through her. The world tilted and her heart thundered, but she hung on while he worked her through it, brought her to the end of completion and still he had more. “I’m going to come, Makena. I’m going to come in you…” She nodded, panting. For the first time there would be nothing between them, no man-made barrier to their complete joining. She wanted it, wanted him. He exploded with a guttural moan and hot come arced deep into her and spilled down her thighs, easing his way, making the ride faster and slicker while she pulsed. She trembled with the force of it, panting to the last languid contractions of her inner walls. When Darq was finished, Makena hung her head and gulped air like someone drowning. He pulled her back against his chest, snaked a hand down her belly and cupped her mound again. He worked her hard, the rhythm of his insistent touch on her slick folds equal to the flutter of dragon wings against her back. The beasts clutched and cried out with the dual sensation and on a fragile sigh, Makena came again into his hand. “You’re mine,” he breathed the words into her ear while she shuddered in his arms. Her cheeks were on fire, her eyes dark and deep, her breath coming in gasps. She’d never seen herself like this, never felt so much a woman and so well possessed. “God, Makena, you belong to me, and I’m not going to let you go.” When she found her breath, she turned and wrapped herself around him. “You’ll never have to. I’ll go wherever you lead me.” He kissed her once, then again with more passion, more tenderness. “The only place I’m going to lead you is home.” The tone of his voice told her he didn’t mean Verakos. “What about Heath?” “I’ll miss him, but he has to find his own way. I’ve found mine. Come home with me and we’ll sleep. You need to rest. In the morning, we’ll wish him well before he goes.” 99
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“Are you sure that’s what you want?” How could he give up everything for her? “I’m sure you’re what I want.” He gathered her in his arms and, sated and sure, Makena sank into the glorious sensation of skin on skin.
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About the Author Drawn to spicy tales of adventure from an early age, Bernadette Gardner made the leap from writing hard science fiction to writing erotic romance in 2005 and has never looked back. Now
multi-published,
Bernadette
also
writes
paranormal,
fantasy
and
contemporary titles under the name Jennifer Colgan. When not exploring distant galaxies or alternate universes, Bernadette can be found at home with her husband of fifteen years, two children and one slightly neurotic Dalmation. She spends her spare time reading, quilting and haunting the local craft stores and looks forward to bringing steamy stories to her fans for decades to come.
Bernadette welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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Also by Bernadette Gardner Rogue Theta
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